The Favor
by pottachu
Summary: Meryl's high school reunion is coming up and with a sneaky idea from Wolfwood, she asks Vash for a favor. With Millie's minor help, the Priest works to bring Vash out of his romantic shell. Fun and humorous, but not TOO fluffy. COMPLETED.
1. The Favor

When Meryl had showered, dressed, put on make-up and headed out the door of hers and Millie's little hotel room, she had expected a normal day. Which- according to the majority of people- wasn't normal at all. Vash the Stampede always encountered at least one disastrous problem. Today however, she was presented with the blessing of Vash's luck. After being nearly ran-over by a spastic teenager, breaking her shoe, and tripping down several stairs, she had the pleasure of encountering an old school mate. Her name: Gabby.

Everyone knew Gabby when Meryl was growing up, and no one could say her name didn't fit her better. As Meryl had remembered, Gabby could take more words describing something than Meryl had thought humanly possible. Meryl had never been on close terms with her for the sake of time (sometimes Meryl had even gone out of her way to eschew her), and she was quite irritated with how it took Gabby so long to say something that could have taken Meryl a sentence. So, to make a very long story short, (after about an hour and half of repetitive words) Meryl was asked whether she was intending to go to their high school reunion.

"I'm definitely going," Gabby announced. "Jason is going, and I can't wait to tell him all about being a manager and of course I'm going to bring Richard, my husband. I bet Jason hasn't even held a job for more than a week that bum!"

Meryl was only half listening to this. She had forgotten all about high school reunions…it was difficult for her to receive mail while she was always on the road. She hadn't ever really thought of going to one… was she that old?

"…oh! And when he finds out about my kids-!" (Gabby was saying loudly)

Finally, Meryl departed slightly amazed that an individual could carry a conversation in which she said two words in.

The priest was over when she entered her hotel room.

"Welcome back, Miss Meryl!" Millie said.

_Miss_. _Miss _was right. What had she been doing with her life? She was still single, and hadn't even gone on a date for ages. Sure, she worked for the _Insurance_, but that was it…it was hardly a bragging right.

"My high school reunion is coming up," Meryl said.

Slowly, this introduced another conversation, one where the Priest had plenty to say.

"I'm telling you," Wolfwood insisted. "If you're so worried about it, use Vash."

Meryl mouth dropped. "_Vash?"_

Then, without warning, Wolfwood began banging on the wall. "Hey! Spiky!" He called.

Because the hotel they were currently taking refuge in was so cheap, the walls sounded like they were made out of paper. Meryl had woken up nearly every night since their arrival due to the talking from the room above hers. Vash would have had to been deaf not hear the familiar voice of Wolfwood bellowing from next door.

"Spiky! Come over here! _Meryl_ has something to tell you!"

"No I don-"

But before Meryl could finish, her door (which was home to a rusted and broken lock) was pushed open by the outlaw.

"Could you guys keep it down?" Vash asked, rubbing his head. "My head hurts."

Wolfwood stared at Meryl expectantly, but when Meryl didn't speak, he took the liberty.

"This Insurance Girl needs to ask you a favor."

"What is it?" Vash asked, still rubbing his head.

Wolfwood and Millie stared at Meryl.

"It's nothing, I just-"

"-What she means is she needs you as her husband next week."

Vash stopped rubbing his head.

"What? I never- no! That's not what-" Meryl raged, turning red in the face.

"She was assuming, Spiky, that you could pay her the pleasure."

Meryl rammed into the Priest and pushed him out of the way, still red. What was he thinking? He was almost as idiotic as Vash.

"What?" Vash blinked.

Great. Now she would _have to_ explain her situation to him.

"Mr. Priest, are you alright?" Millie asked. "All this with Vash and Meryl getting married seems to have created some violence."

Oh my. If Meryl didn't do something now it was definitely going to go down in the ditch.

"It has nothing to do with that!" Meryl growled. "We were just discussing my high school reunion."

"And Mrs. Meryl has a favor to ask," Millie added, helping the Priest away from her dangerous partner.

Meryl stared at Vash a moment, her mind racing- trying to come up with a good lie.

"Go on, Mrs. Meryl," Millie insisted.

"It's _Miss_," Meryl corrected through clenched teeth.

Vash waited for an explanation patiently. His eyes stared at Meryl with an odd glow.

"Spiky, maybe you should leave, she looks like she's going to blow," Wolfwood pointed out.

"I am not!" Meryl rounded on the Priest, who suddenly turned to Millie.

"Didn't you need to pick up some stuff from the store? Groceries?" He asked. He somehow knew when Meryl had been pushed too far, and he didn't want to stick around for it. He could find something better to do.

"Oh yeah, I did, it's-"

"Well, let's not waste time," he insisted.

The Priest grabbed Millie's hand and quickly led her passed Meryl. Millie gave Meryl a quick goodbye as they squeezed by the outlaw.

When the sound of their footsteps vanished (which took a while, because Vash and Meryl could hear through all the thin walls) Meryl felt even more awkward than before. For a fleeting moment she wondered what was worse: being embarrassed, or feeling awkward.

"What was it you wanted to ask me?" Vash asked with sincerity.

Meryl started at once; it was as if she couldn't get the explanation out fast enough, and she hadn't thought out her words, making it longer to explain than necessary.

"I hadn't thought about going to my high school reunion until I ran into someone I knew who was going and she was talking all about it and how she has done so much- she's married, a manager, and has three kids; if I don't go to the reunion everyone will think I've done nothing with my life, and if I do they'll see that I haven't been married or anything, and it was Wolfwood really who suggested it. I understand if you wouldn't, but I guess it sounded like a good idea, sort of-" and then she paused, not daring to look up at the outlaw. In a flick of a second she decided the best way to say it was fast. "He said that maybe if you went with me I wouldn't be a completely lost case."

It was silent, and after staring at the ground for a long time, Meryl dared look up to see whether the outlaw was still in her doorway or not. Immediately she regretted it. He was smirking at her! And he looked like he was slightly lost in some sort of superior disbelief. She looked away, muttering.

"How could I let that Priest talk me into this? No," she shook her head, "never mind."

"Why don't you go with him?" Vash asked, still sincere.

Meryl slipped a disgusted look at the ground, and then looked back up at Vash in disbelief. "Are you serious?"

And Meryl could tell by his expression he was.

"Millie likes Wolfwood!" Meryl exclaimed. "Doesn't Wolfwood like Millie?" She asked Vash.

"Wha- well…I guess. I just wasn't sure if…"

"But it was a really stupid idea, he slightly reminds me of someone I know…"

"Does he?" Vash asked.

"I guess…"

It was silent, and they both avoided each other's eyes. Vash had never noticed that the cupboard in Meryl's hotel room had such a large dent, and Meryl had forgotten how shiny Vash's boots really were.

But what was she going to do?

"It's a stupid idea," Meryl said again. "But would you?" She looked up into his aqua eyes.

"Yeah…if you want me to…"

"You'll have to be with me or something…or…or they'll think I've done absolutely nothing with my life!" Meryl answered desperately.

A smile broke across Vash's face. He stepped closer now. "How many of them have been traveling with Vash the Stampede the last year and a half? That's got to count for something…and being _married_ to him? Vash the Stampede isn't-"

"Don't be stupid! We're changing your name!"

The smile was wiped clean from Vash, as Meryl began to think hard. "You'll be called Mark and you're uh… a doctor. We met…"

"I was your doctor and-"

"No," Meryl shook her head. "What patient dates their own doctor? Do you look too young to be a doctor though?" Meryl studied him.

"I'm definitely old enough." Vash announced.

"Oh well, you're just really ambitious, and graduated really early to start college."

"When is your reunion?" Vash asked.

"Next week," Meryl sighed.

Vash glanced at the nearby slanted dresser. He found a small paper full of grocery items. "I think Millie forgot the grocery list."

"_Getting groceries_," Meryl scoffed. She picked up the list.

"They do like each other?" Vash said. He was indecisive on whether it was a positive or negative idea.

"Well, I don't think they're getting groceries…"

They locked eyes again, wordlessly questioning themselves. Vash's aqua eyes and Meryl's lavender eyes were on each other longer than what was normal for friends. Meryl looked away, fidgeting with the grocery list, while Vash debated whether or not to find a new topic to talk about, and when he tried to look for a subject, he found little to choose from.

"You really showed Wolfwood…" Vash broke the heavy silence.

_What was that supposed to mean?_ Meryl wondered. "He deserved it, making you think that I really wanted…"

She felt Vash's eyes back on her.

"…but with his wording, he wasn't very _honest_." She answered carefully. "He somehow forgot to mention the acting involved."

Vash gave her an innocuous smile; this was going to be _interesting_.

Author's note:

Thank you for reading. Please take the time to review… it helps a whole lot.


	2. The Background

Meryl flipped through some pages of an old yearbook at her wobbly table. Her chair (that was just as wobbly) tilted with her every movement. She had already spent several minutes trying to prop items under its legs to prevent the subconscious motion sickness, but the only thing that fit in the space was her yearbook, which, evidently, she needed. Apart from the couple talking above her room, it was quiet. And it remained that way until an uninvited outlaw stopped at her door and pressed it open.

"Hey, Meryl, do you have-" Vash paused when he neared the table. He changed his mind mid-sentence and asked, "What are you doing?"

Peering down at the book, he scanned the collage of pictures; almost everyone on the page was a teenager. Each person provided a smile or an impertinent expression. Two paragraphs were fitted on the right side of the page, and a group of complementary colors covered all of the remaining space.

"Looking at one of my yearbooks," Meryl sighed.

"What's that?" He asked.

"What's a yearbook?" She asked in surprise. Looking up at him she realized that was indeed his question. His aqua eyes were staring down on its pages with slight curiosity. "You don't know what a yearbook is?"

"…No…" Vash leaned forward on the table. It looked like some sort of scrap book. The reason he had come over had completely left his mind, and he continued to stare, waiting for an answer.

"Well… I guess I can introduce you to some of my schoolmates this way…" Meryl answered, feeling slightly awkward with him staring down at the book so close to her. Even though Vash had agreed to help her, the entire situation felt in its own way uncomfortable. "At the end of every schoolH year students buy yearbooks- which kind of retells the highlights of the school year." She explained.

She pushed the book further away so Vash wouldn't have to breathe on her to see it. Then she proceeded to turn the page.

It had only been a few seconds when Vash triumphantly pointed to a picture. "Look there's you!" He smiled.

"Eh! Don't look at that! It's hideous!" Meryl cried, ripping the book away from him.

"No it isn't, you look _fine_."

Meryl shot him a disgusted look.

Her sudden attack made Vash even more curious to glimpse the picture again.

"Just let me see," he insisted. When she refused to move he proceeded to add "_Please_."

"There's a better picture of me," she announced reluctantly.

"Can I see that one?" He asked hopefully. He had never seen pictures of her or Millie, and was suddenly addicted to the idea of seeing Meryl going to school with other students. She had at one time been a teenager… before she was the insurance girl.

Meryl hesitated, a serious battle raging in her as she tried to predict his reaction. Cautiously, she glanced around the room, for once comforted with the idea that Millie and the Priest were out together. After the confirmation that no one else was around, she wondered if it was safe to display it to the outlaw.

"It will be pretty strange when people find out I've never seen a picture of my wife…" Vash taunted.

That seemed to change Meryl's mind. Feeling awkward, she put the book back on the table and quickly turned the pages until it lay open to a scarlet colored background.

"Wow…" Vash said, looking between Meryl and her picture.

"_What?_" She demanded.

The school girl Meryl had longer hair and a gentler face. In fact, Vash couldn't remember ever seeing Meryl look that content. Someone else caught his eyes; standing behind Meryl was a young man, obviously staring at her. His shaggy blond hair drooped into his face and he had a twisted grin that had affected everything clear up to his eyes.

"Who's that?" Vash asked, pointing to the boy.

"Oh…_him_. That's the worst person you'll ever meet. He's a cheating dog, he followed me everywhere _and_-"

Vash quickly looked up at her. Lightning had just struck his brain. "Was he your _boyfriend_?"

Meryl stopped and stared at the outlaw. "_What?_"

It had only occurred to him that Meryl must have had some boyfriends growing up. He didn't allow himself to hesitate, if he was going to receive the answer from Meryl he had to spring it on her.

He smiled. His elbows left the table and he stared at her satisfied. "That guy was your boyfriend."

"No he wasn't!" Meryl growled.

Vash wasn't listening. He grabbed the yearbook and began turning the pages vigorously.

"Hey!" Meryl threatened, but Vash turned his back to her.

Meryl stood up, losing her balance for a moment because of her wobbly chair. The chair teetered and then hit the floor with a sharp clink.

The pages flipped quickly, he knew there had to be a picture with her and some guy, probably this guy in her other photo.

"Aha!" Vash cried out. He jabbed the page with a threatening finger.

"What!"

It wasn't the same the boy as before, this one had dark hair and eyes, but it was obvious he and Meryl were on close terms.

"Let me see!" Meryl demanded. She pushed the book down to her view and followed his finger.

Indeed the school girl Meryl was with another male teenager. The boy had his hand comfortably around her; they both were smiling. This had to be her boyfriend. Vash was sure of it.

"That's my brother Broomhead!"

Vash looked at her unsure.

"Look!" Meryl pointed to the caption. "_Friends and Family Forever, Brant and Meryl Stryfe_." She read to him. "Honestly, Vash."

Vash stared at the happy picture, wondering more about Meryl personally than ever. He knew Millie had a huge family… she talked about them a lot, but he had never heard Meryl say anything about hers.

"Is there a picture of your boyfriend in here?" He asked, breaking the heavy silence.

Meryl pulled the book out of his arms. "And why do you care about a boyfriend so much?" She hadn't thought of the answer to the question until she put the book back on the table. Why was Vash so interested in the subject? Suddenly she became aware of how alone they really were; even the talking in the room above hers has subsided. She could hear the beating of her heart, pumping blood through her body. At first she had hoped the question would silence the Broomhead's loud mouth, but now the silence made her uncomfortable again. She cleared her throat, not daring to look at him. "Anyway…" She flipped the page and pointed to another school girl. "That's Roseanne. We had PE together…"

"PE?"

"Physical Education," she answered. "You didn't go to school, did you?" She continued to stare at the picture of the sagacious girl. It was common on Gunsmoke to receive no education. Going to school was expensive, and many children never got the opportunity.

"No," Vash answered.

"Well… if you get asked anything about being a doctor, answer vaguely," Meryl advised.

Vash lost track of time as they continued through her yearbook. It was no doubt that what he found most interesting was the collection of signatures on the inside of the cover. Meryl sounded like she had had a lot of friends in high school. He encountered a peculiar (to say the least) paragraph from someone named Travis- by the sound of it, he had been Meryl's boyfriend, but Vash didn't dare mention his thoughts to her.

When the book was finally shut and out of Vash's mind, he remembered how hungry he was and why he had come over in the first place. Without the slightest word, he escorted himself to the hotel cupboards.

"Vash-?"

His stomach let out a low growl as he stuck his head in the cupboard. Besides a box of crackers and a small loaf of bread, it was empty. He opened the next one and found it completely spotless. Either these girls ate a whole lot or nothing at all.

"Don't you have any food around here?" Vash asked her. "I thought Millie went to get groceries."

"I thought we already discussed this…"

"Yes, but that was the first time, hasn't she gone to get groceries _three_ different times?" Vash asked.

"Yeah…" Meryl blushed slightly. "But this is Millie we're talking about, sometimes she gets distracted."

"By that Priest?" Vash pulled out a package of crackers. It crinkled as he forced the plastic apart and introduced the snacks to hotel air. "Sounds like it's becoming a bit of a habit to me…"

Meryl watched him pop a cracker into his mouth.

"What do you do when they're- she's not here?" He asked.

"Paperwork mostly," she answered, staring at the cover of her yearbook. She wasn't examining it, but it gave her somewhere to rest her eyes during their uncomfortable idleness.

It sounded boring. Vash wasn't much of a writer.

"What sort of stuff do you write in those reports anyway?" He asked when another topic hadn't been brought up.

This time Meryl looked up at him. "They're work reports. I report about our progress on our job…which, might I add, hasn't been much."

"Hey! I've been quiet lately," Vash insisted.

Before Meryl could argue, footsteps reached their ears.

"See? I told you we would make it back in time for lunch," Wolfwood's voice sounded through the thin walls.

Vash stopped chewing.

"But Mr. Priest, wasn't there something we were supposed to be doing for Ms. Meryl?" Millie asked.

"Don't worry about it, I'm sure her and Needle Noggin already ate."

He pushed the door open.

"Good afternoon!" The Priest announced their arrival.

Vash swallowed his disintegrating cracker.

"Ah, Spiky, glad to see you made it over here," Wolfwood complimented, and proceed to knock Vash in the back.

Vash was relieved he had swallowed his cracker, if he hadn't, he surely would be coughing a cloud of it.

"Millie, did you get the groceries?" Meryl sighed.

"Yeah," Vash agreed and turned to the priest. "You were supposed to be getting _groceries_! There's nothing to eat!"

Wolfwood eyed Vash in disbelief. "What does it matter to you? It's the girls that live here. It's _their_ groceries. And believe it or not, _Meryl_ is quite capable of picking them up herself if it's so serious. Heck, Spiky, why don't you go with her and buy your own food."

"Yeah, Mr. Vash," Millie agreed, but with a much more bubbly tone. "You should go grocery shopping with Ms. Meryl sometime."

Vash locked eyes with Meryl for a moment. The grocery shopping phrase had recently developed a new connotation between them, one that apparently Wolfwood was familiar with as well.

"I don't know, he hasn't gone for so long, he may have forgotten how." Wolfwood nudged Vash in the side. "What's wrong Spiky? You were just telling me the other day you were out of food- if you know what I mean. And apparently all that's here is crackers." Wolfwood leaned over Vash and helped himself to one, letting his comment roll over in the outlaw's mind.

It worked.

"Fine!" Vash snapped.

"What?" Meryl sputtered.

"We'll show you how it's done," Vash insisted.

Wolfwood slipped him a sly smile. "Well?"

He turned to Meryl. She felt her stomach jump, and hoped she wasn't turning red in the face. What exactly was going on in that spiky head of his?

"Meryl," he addressed. "Let's go get groceries."

She didn't move a muscle. She searched his eyes for some kind of decoding in his message. "I…" she studied his eyes again. "The paperwork-"

"Come on Insurance Girl, this gal is hungry, and there's nothing to eat here," Wolfwood pointed out. He swung his arm securely around Millie. "_And_ we know what a disaster it would be if Vash went to buy groceries by himself…"

Vash shot the Priest one last look before opening the hotel door.

"Well?" The Priest pressed, his eyes drilling into Meryl's.

Numb, Meryl stepped toward the door looking worried. What was going on? She looked at Vash again and saw no sign of weakness. Her heart thumped loudly. This Priest had been causing quite a bit of trouble lately…

Vash shut the door behind her.

Author's note: Thanks for all the reviews received from the last chapter. I really do appreciate it and love them (compliments and critiques). So, if anyone would be so kind to review this chapter, I would be much obliged; it gives me more motivation to write. Thanks for reading!


	3. Grocery Shopping

Vash and Meryl walked down the hall in silence. Meryl was beginning to worry; for if her new found definition of "grocery shopping" was (and she was afraid it was) the same idea Wolfwood and Vash had, she couldn't think of anything more nerve racking.

"Vash-"

The gunman pulled his finger to his mouth, hushing her with a simple action.

Meryl wanted to groan. Anxiety was quickly building up in her. Vash mustn't be considering _that_ kind of grocery shopping. How could he? He was her job, and that definitely was out of line! But what if… no, he wouldn't…he wouldn't even dare… with a little insurance girl? What could possibly give him such motivation? He was marked down as a womanizer, but Meryl didn't see much potential in it. He had once gone after women, but nothing too serious- they all ended up slapping him in the face. If he did try anything, what would she do? After agreeing to help with her reunion…did he expect anything from her? And if he did, she would tell him _no_… she _would_ tell him _no_… right? There wouldn't be any real reason for it… not really anyway.

She followed him down three flights of stairs, beginning to blush. It was just a short walk from there to the exit. They went out into the blazing sunlight, away from prying priest ears. Children were playing across the street, laughing and throwing a ball back and forth. During the midday, few adults traveled the streets. Instead they tended to family, home, or work. They cooked, cleaned, and wrote reports. And here Meryl was, going grocery shopping alone with Vash, with no money, and no grocery list.

"Vash, where are we going?" Meryl asked after several streets of silence.

"To the grocery store," was his reply.

Meryl let her troubled thoughts whirl around her head for a moment.

"Where _is_ the grocery store?" She asked.

"In the middle of town," he turned to her, half smiling (or smirking, with her jumbled mind, she couldn't tell which). "Remember? Across the street from the bank? We'll show that Priest what _real_ grocery shopping is."

"But I didn't bring the list…"

"You have a loaf of bread in your cupboard, so we know you need anything _but _that." Vash concluded.

Some part of Meryl felt relieved. So they really were going grocery shopping… _really_.

"And crackers," Meryl added.

"There won't be any crackers by the time we get back, trust me, that Priest will have them all safely in his stomach."

Meryl suppressed a smile.

Like the streets at midday, the grocery store was nearly empty. The cashier, a dumpy sort of a woman, had her nose pressed against the morning's newspaper and ignored their entrance. Vash grabbed a shopping cart that was parallel to her. Then he looked at Meryl expectantly.

"Let's… get the most important items first." She answered.

The cart was off. Thanks to Vash's aura of luck, one wheel was stuck sideways, and another was so twitchy it looked like someone had slipped it caffeine. A terrible high-pitched squeak sounded each time the cart was turned. The perennial noise wore on Meryl like nails on chalkboards. Steadily she became agitated with Vash's fortuitous nature. Still, she could find no reasonable answer why Vash attracted so much mayhem. It was as if he was cursed with bad luck. Meryl hadn't seen such a pattern of trouble anywhere else in her whole life.

Vash stopped the cart, the energetic wheel still quivering.

"What are we doing in the bread aisle?" Meryl asked.

"_Grocery shopping_."

"Evidently," Meryl said.

"Meryl…am I that front forward?" Vash asked, reaching for a box next to the bread.

"And this punning is really getting out of control… I almost thought back there at the hotel…"

"You thought…?" Vash's eyes reached her, with the box safely in his hands.

"Unlike some people around here, I _do_ know how to use my brain," she answered irritably.

Vash stared at her. His words were once again misinterpreted by the small insurance girl. While he placed the square box in the cart, he hesitated on whether or not to address the hotel event with more speculation.

Meryl tried to steady the twitchy wheel with her foot while Vash put several more square boxes in the cart. Ever since Millie and Wolfwood had begun spending time together, she had seen less of Millie and more of the Priest. And although Vash and Wolfwood weren't on as close terms, she wondered if it was somehow the same affect for him. Meryl had suddenly become secluded with her own thoughts to comfort her… which when it came to certain people, wasn't always comforting.

"Vash, you're really stocking up," Meryl looked at the cart in disbelief.

"But they're on sale."

Meryl's lavender eyes peered more observantly at the cart. "Donuts!" Yes, how could she have expected anything less?

"Don't worry. I grabbed a box for you too."

"And the other three are for you?" She asked.

Vash smiled.

Meryl plunged her hands into the cart and picked up two of the boxes.

"Hey…what are you doing?" Vash asked.

With authority, Meryl threw the donuts back on the shelf.

"Those are mine!" He exclaimed as Meryl picked up the last two boxes, ridding the cart of them.

Meryl over exaggerated the moment of putting the donuts down. Her hands flicked with satisfaction, and she turned to Vash with a smug look.

"_You're _going to my reunion," she reminded. "The last thing I need is to be married to a blimp." She proceeded to poke his stomach.

Vash's jaw dropped.

With a strong sense of "a job well done", Meryl gripped the shopping cart and marched down the aisle.

The gunman stared longingly at the pastries. They looked fresh, fluffy, and beautiful. He glanced at Meryl, who was well ahead of him now, and back to the donuts. Mouth-watering, he grabbed one box. For a moment he was back in the memory of their sweet taste.

"Don't even think of it!" Meryl ordered.

Alarmed, Vash stuffed the box back on the shelf. He nearly smashed the wheat bread next to it in his guilty rush. "I was just _looking_." He insisted.

"Ha!" She wasn't going to believe that. "Get over here."

Once Vash was close enough to her side, she proceeded

Vash tried to occupy his mind, keeping it away from donuts. He began reading the signs above each aisle, memorizing their contents…but the idea of pastries continued to linger in the back of his mind. Few things could empower his self control…

Meryl kicked the sideways wheel in frustration. It behaved for a moment, but after a foot it retreated back to its old habits. She grumbled.

"Let me see," Vash suggested.

He twirled the wheel around several time and wiggled it. Just when Meryl's mind was about to acknowledge his great accomplishment, the wheel popped off completely.

"Uh-oh," was his reply. His mint green eyes stared down at the black dirty wheel in his palm.

Meryl struggled to hold her frustration inside as Vash ineffectively tried to reattach the wheel. His hands blackened from the debris coating the wheel.

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "I'll push the cart."

Meryl opened her mouth to answer, but no words came out. She was interrupted by a loud cry.

"MERYL!"

The entire possibility of Vash pushing the cart left her mind. If grocery shopping was taking long, it was going to take several hours longer… Gabby had just appeared at the end of the aisle and was making a mad dash for Meryl.

Meryl stood there, mouth agape as Gabby pulled her into an uninvited hug.

"_Oh my gosh!_ How _are_ you?"

Before Meryl could answer, the woman was off at 1000 words per minute.

"… and I told them not to worry about it, that _I_ wanted to plan it. They didn't believe me and so I told them I really wanted to do the planning, but I could tell they just couldn't take the idea of someone like me planning it. So I insisted that if they indeed wanted someone to plan it with a superb and detail and moderate display, that it only made sense to pick someone sensible, and they…"

Meryl glimpsed Vash's wide eyes; she was sure it must be shocking to hear Gabby speak for the first time.

"And- Oh my gosh! Meryl, who is _this_?" She asked. Her eyes were livid and resting on Vash, who she had apparently just noticed.

Meryl jumped to the answer before Gabby broke her mouth into another marathon. "Gabby, this is _Mark_…" here was the test. She pressed the words out, ignoring unessential thoughts, and announced with a jump of her stomach, "my husband."

"OH!" Gabby gasped and took Vash's wheel-less hand immediately. His black dirty palm pressed against hers in a handshake. When she let go, black was smudged all across her palm and proceeded to spread to everything she touched.

"Oh my gosh!" She exclaimed again. "But where are your rings? I'm wearing mine from Richard, he bought it at the best jewelry store in December. Why didn't you wear them, I would have loved to see it, where is it from?" She asked Meryl.

"It's…well, we took them off because we were cleaning and-"

Gabby seized the subject of cleaning and went off on another rampage discussing how she encountered the best laundry detergent just last week. While this long story was being told, Meryl became suddenly alert that her and Vash would need proof of their relationship. She hadn't bought anything to insurance their lie. And she was _slightly_ lucky Gabby was more interested on the subject of detergent than her and Vash's relationship.

"Meryl," Vash addressed after a half an hour. "Don't we need to get these groceries before it's nightfall?"

"Oh, you two are grocery shopping?" Gabby asked.

"At least we thought we were…" Vash said under his breath.

"Richard and I almost always go grocery shopping together. He does such a great job picking out what we need."

Vash sent a humorous look to Meryl, and pressed his lips to conceal a smile. In response Meryl sighed and rolled her eyes. Everything seemed to be rather ridiculous lately… especially grocery shopping.

After placing the broken wheel in the cart, Vash grabbed its handle bar, and cleared his throat.

"It was nice meeting you, Gabby, but we really need to get home to… er" he searched for the right word. It hit him, and he smiled. "-The baby."

Meryl's eyes widened. _The baby_. Small ruddy patches appeared on her cheeks. It was ideal, but yet too upfront.

"Baby!" Gabby lit up with enthusiasm.

"Yes," Vash emphasized and grabbed the dumbfounded Meryl's hand.

Without Meryl's consent, her blush deepened.

Vash gave her arm a terse tug and directed the cart quickly away from the loud woman. Meryl followed his pursuit.

"I hope all your friends aren't that talkative," he remarked.

"She wasn't really my friend. Gabby will talk to anything that sits still long enough." Meryl explained.

They moved four aisles away at a quick pace and ducked into one full of canned goods. Vash proceeded to fill up the cart with more groceries. When Meryl spotted something to fill some of her needs, she realized Vash still had her hand. In her mind she silently debated whether or not to let go. Once her brain interfered, she realized how foolish it sounded, and began filling the cart with both hands.

After several more aisles, they directed their steps to the cashier. The stout woman looked up at them with bored eyes. Vash began to pile their groceries onto the counter, and Meryl started to help. The woman stared at them, chomping loudly on gum like a cow would cud. Slowly, she began to scan the items.

Vash caught Meryl's worried expression returning.

"What's wrong?" He asked.

"I've just remembered I didn't bring any money… could I borrow some?"

"Don't worry about it," Vash insisted.

Chewing loudly, the woman announced the total.

"Are you sure that's it?" Vash asked.

Her dull eyes stared down at him in response.

"When we were shopping, I thought-"

"You're buying _that_." The woman pointed to the cart with one fat stubby finger. "You break it you buy it," she explained after seeing the confused look on the gunman.

"But it was broken when we got it!" Meryl reacted. "The wheel was bound to break off any second."

"Then you should have picked a different cart." The woman concluded.

Meryl shot a glare at her as Vash retrieved his wallet. She would have never paid for it, but Vash was already handing the cashier money.

"Thank you," he responded and hastily stuffed the receipt in his pocket. He began depositing the groceries back into the broken cart at full speed. "Hurry, she's coming," he hissed.

Before Meryl could ask who, she heard Gabby's voice call out to them again.

Vash finished loading the cart in an amazing ten seconds. "Come on." This time he looped his arm around hers and quickly pulled her with him, crying out loudly. "Hurry, the babysitter can't stay there all day!"

Meryl was pressed against his red coat closer than she could ever remember being and was forced quickly out of the building. She could smell the gunpowder radiating from the swish of the fabric and she could even hear his breathing.

Safely outside, Vash unhooked his arm and repositioned it securely on the wobbly cart. Everything had happened so fast that Meryl's brain was just catching up with the rest of her. Subconsciously, she folded her arms against her body in a soft closure.

For some unspeakable reason, both remained in heavy silence.


	4. Surprises

They were leaving tomorrow. And Meryl would be back in her home town by nightfall. On her way back to the hotel room with Millie, she declared that the day didn't have enough hours. She and Millie had been out all morning, and Meryl still needed to pack.

With white paper bags in hands, the two insurance girls traveled up the creaking stairs. Finally they reached their floor, out of breath.

Meryl's mind began charting out her day's schedule until her thoughts were intercepted by two familiar voices. One belonged to an outlaw, and the other to a priest.

"I'm telling you, Spiky, make- your- move-! You have all the cards, just play them. You're the one who agreed to the bet."

"I agreed to the bet? You made me bet before I even knew what was going on!" Vash's voice argued.

Meryl glanced at Vash's hotel door as her and Millie continued toward their room. She wasn't one who tried to eavesdrop, but it was impossible not to in this hotel. Nothing was private, which was an idea she had somewhat grown accustomed to since her job as a disaster prevention insurance girl

"You wouldn't have ever done _anything_ if I hadn't provoked you," the Priest explained.

"Oh, cute! Mr. Vash and Mr. Priest sound like their playing a game," Millie pointed out happily.

Meryl rolled her eyes. "Sounds more like they're gambling to me."

She reached their door and was about to push against it when Vash spoke again.

"I went grocery shopping with her all by myself. Isn't that good enough?"

Meryl froze.

"_Once!_ Listen Spiky, I'm just trying to push you along. You've been in the same position for too long. I know you're rusty, but you need to step in up a notch."

When Millie came behind Meryl, Meryl lost her balance, and teetered against the door. Her weight caused the handle to give a profound scratching click in return.

"Sh!" Meryl heard from the room next to hers. She listened intently, caught in the moment. Once Meryl was finally sure the conversation had come to a stop, she proceeded to enter the room. Before one foot and even made it in, Vash's door was thrust open, and the outlaw forced out.

The insurance girls stared at him as the bottom of his redcoat swayed from the sudden push. Slowly the fabric came to a stop. He seemed to be at a loss of words with his big eyes.

"Hello Mr. Vash!" Millie chirped. "Did you have a fun game with Mr. Wolfwood?"

"Er- yeah, it was great…" He answered, feeling uncomfortable. "What are you two up to?"

"We just purchased some items for the trip tomorrow!" Millie shared.

When Vash's eyes darted to Meryl's, the insurance girl quickly pushed the door all the way open and went inside. Millie and Vash followed behind her.

Inside the impoverished room, Meryl put her paper bags down on the tiny table. Her yearbook was squeezed under the shortest leg to keep it from wobbling. She was fed up with all the tables' needs. When she put too much weight on it, it creaked, which was a terrible sign for any table to do. And once she had sat cross-legged at it and found various recycled gum blobs stuck on her when her leg emerged. It wasted a large amount of time trying to get them off. She would be glad to leave this corrupted table behind.

Meryl's hands curled the top of the white paper bags down and rolled them to a closure, wondering when the best time to tell Vash would be. First off she would have a decent conversation with him, while trying to ignore his overheard conversation he had had with the Priest. But on the contrary, the returning thought of his last conversation brought a serious stab of curiosity, like an itch that can't be reached. What exactly were they talking about? It took some strong self coping skills to force the question out of her mind. When it was no longer itching her, she turned to Vash and received a heart attack; her mind was wiped blank, and she was at a loss of any thinking skills.

The stupid blond was kneeling. One shin rested on the ground, and the other was perpendicular to it. His aqua eyes looked up at Meryl's horrific expression, and his arm reached out to her. In his hand was a small black fuzzy box, flipped open, and bearing a dazzling ring.

"Meryl…" He said it clear and slow.

She stared at him, dumbfounded and confused.

"I bought this for you, I think it will help." His tone returned to normal and he straightened his arm so that the ring was closer to her. When Meryl continued to stare, he added, "Gabby noticed we didn't have wedding rings, and so will everyone else."

Vash stood up, and Meryl's heart stopped its rapid beating. He held the box out to her, staring at her lavender grey eyes.

Meryl swiped it off his palm, not hiding the glare on her face.

"Vash, you idiot! You gave me a heart attack!" She growled. This information seemed to please him, because a small triumphant smile swept over his lips.

Meryl's glare deepened and her heart finally calmed.

"Well, aren't you going to look at it?" Vash asked.

With distaste, Meryl turned to the ring. She tugged it free from the little black box and felt its texture with her fingers. Her eyes looked down at its shinning surface. A large clear stone propped up by gold was the main attraction, but smaller clear stones were also present. They were embedded in the gold and ran down the sides of the ring.

"Well?" Vash pressed.

"It is really nice, and looks so real. Vash, what's it made out of?" She asked, still staring at the ring.

"I have a ring too," Vash announced, changing the subject.

Meryl glanced at it. It was flat all around, and much more masculine.

Millie now peered over Meryl's shoulder at her ring. She blinked.

"Ms. Meryl, doesn't that look kind of like the ring in the window of Carter Jeweler's?" Once this revelation was made, Meryl realized it looked exactly like the ring from the window. "Mr. Vash, where did you get it?"

The gunman rubbed his arm uncomfortably. "Well, it's funny that you say that, because, well, since I'm supposed to be some kind of doctor, I would have a lot of money, right? It wouldn't be a ring from a twenty-five cent machine."

Meryl turned the ring in her fingers and scanned the inside until she found a brand name marking. The name matched the jeweler's: _Carter_.

"You bought a real ring, Vash!" Meryl said. "What is this?" She asked and proceeded to hold up the ring, pointing at it with her index finger.

"Er- 24 karat…But don't worry," he added after seeing the expression on the small insurance girl's face. "I can sell both of them after the reunion."

"How much was it?" Meryl asked.

"I'm not telling. Just don't lose it or anything, okay?"

She slipped the ring on her finger and was surprised how it fit snug against her flesh. She hadn't ever worn a diamond on her ring finger, and she was unable to decipher her thoughts. On one side it felt awkward, but in its own way, it made her feel important. Although she found it ridiculous Vash had bought her a ring, she steadily grew fonder of it every time the light rushed over its surface. And on top of that, she could possibly avoid serious cat calls.

Vash was watching Meryl readjust the ring, but was distracted when Millie dunked her hand into the paper bag she was holding. She pulled out an affluent picture frame. Each side was embellished with loops of gold and dots of jewels. Behind the loops and dots was a rich cherry wood red. He wonder why the two insurance girls had spent money for this picture frame, he couldn't see how it would be much use when they were always on the go. The frame would probably be broken in a matter of hours.

"What should I do with these?" Millie asked, holding the frame up.

Meryl jumped and retrieved it from her partner. She turned it over, exposing its backside, and began unhooking the back latches.

"Why did you buy a picture frame?" Vash asked.

Meryl slid the back off and pulled out the false thin picture. This one had a baby snuggled up in a blanket and staring at the cameraman. It was in black and white as the majority of pictures were on Gunsmoke (unless for a special occasion). After placing the frame on the distraught table, she examined the picture.

"It's not the picture frame I'm after," she finally answered. With ring glistening, she handed the picture to Vash. "Say hello to your daughter."

Vash stared at the babe for a few seconds. "You bought picture frames for the pictures?" Vash asked.

"Everyone brings pictures of their kids."

"Why don't we just use pictures of Millie's family?" Vash asked. He glanced at Millie who was now dumping the other three picture frames on the table as well. They all ranged in sizes, color, and texture. One was lime green with splashes of beige, and another had tiny stones pressed into it.

"Millie's family is huge, someone probably knows them. They would recognize the kids." Meryl explained, and then grabbed the ugly green frame to rid the picture of its presence.

"But aren't these pictures used in countless frames in countless places that countless people go to?" Vash asked. He set the baby picture on the table.

Meryl struggled to move the latches that kept the back of the lime green one shut. In the processes, she chipped her nail, but ignored the factor- it happened a lot when her job was preventing damage.

Vash held out his hand, and Meryl handed him the ugly frame.

"But whoever remembers these pictures?" Meryl asked. "Everyone just chucks them. And if someone does notice, we can just say our children are photogenic."

Okay. Maybe it would work, Vash thought. He forced the latches over and slid the back off. The picture inside looked much nicer without the lime green border. This picture contained a toddler smothered in dark birthday cake. With a large blob of frosting in her hair, the toddler had stuck both hands right in the middle of the dessert. She looked down at the disaster with a big toothy grin. Vash hunted for a resemblance of Meryl, but found none other than the fact she was female.

"There!" Meryl exclaimed. All the pictures had been freed and displayed on the table.

"They don't really look like _photos_." Vash pointed out after several seconds of silence.

"We're taking them somewhere to copy them onto real photo paper," Meryl answered, agitated. "If we left them like this," she swooped her hand over them, "they would be torn to shreds by the time we got to the reunion.

Before Vash could give his opinion on the matter, the door swung open. The force caused the door to bang against the wall before coming to a prolonged stop.

"Mr. Priest!" Millie called out.

Vash and Meryl's whole well-bring appeared to droop, as if they had suddenly had a bucket of water poured on them.

The Priest was upright in the doorway, one hand still on the door, and hoisted a rather serious expression in Vash's direction. Meryl sensed an iciness between the two as Vash quickly turned back to the pictures.

"Hey Hun!" Woflwood bellowed with a suddenly chipper tone. "I brought you somethin'!" He strolled over the Millie and held up a large brown paper bag.

Vash was pretending to be interested in the pictures, but his mind was thinking nothing of the sort. He picked up the baby one three different times on accident, while listening to Millie respond joyfully.

"Pudding! Wow! I'm going to eat some right now!"

"How about we share one?" Vash heard the Priest suggest.

"Sit at the table Mr. Wolfwood, and I'll get the spoons."

"No, how about _you_ sit at the table, and _I'll_ get the spoons."

Millie sat herself in the wobbly chair across from Meryl, who was also trying to show some interest in the pictures. Meryl heard Wolfwood struggle to force open a broken drawer, which had also caused Meryl some grief, but would never be as terrible as this table. Finally she heard the drawer slide open and then a rumbling sound of plastic utensils. Wolfwood came to the table humming a delightful song and seated himself across from Vash, but one feature about his return was very evident: he only brought one spoon.

"You forgot a spoon," Millie acknowledged, and pointed to the utensil in his hand.

"It was the last one."

A sweat drop clung to Meryl. She had just bought more spoons the other day. Was this Priest really going to demonstrate such behavior just inches away from her? Meryl very much wished to open the drawer and prove him a liar, but the effort it would take to unjam the compartment was hardly worth it.

Millie pulled out some chocolate pudding from the brown paper bag and proceeded to open it. The smell radiated around the table and made their mouths water. When the spoon was dunked into it, the pudding proved itself with its thick gooey texture. Wolfwood proceeded to swirl the spoon around the dessert, aware of Vash's and Meryl's sneaking eyes. Finally, he scooped a large amount and lifted the spoon. The pudding clung onto the bottom of the utensil until it could stretch no further, then it plopped back down forming a volcano like shape.

Vash found the whole event uncalled for, especially when Wolfwood took the initiative of spoon feeding Millie. Millie on the other hand seemed oblivious to the idea, and began to praise the creators of pudding.

Wolfwood shot Vash another look, and Vash quickly turned his eyes back to the baby picture, trying to come up with a topic to occupy his mind. Fortunately, Meryl came to his rescue. She reached for the white paper bag she had curled closed earlier, and opened it. Vash immediately became interested.

"Vash, I also got these business cards made…"

Vash put his elbow on the table and rested the side of his head on his fist to block out the view of a shared spoon. His eyes were glued to Meryl, who had just put some small rectangles of cardstock on the table. They bore his false name and occupation, along with contact information. Meryl was finding a way to really drag out the conversation on them until the pudding dish was finally empty. When finished, Wolfwood stood up stretched a little and asked Millie if she would help him with something in his hotel room.

"But I think Meryl needed me to help her with packing," Millie answered.

Wolfwood put on a charming smile. "The truth is," he said, "I need some help packing too!"

Vash could no longer pretend he wasn't listening. "Where are you going?"

"To Meryl's home town," he answered happily.

"You're coming!" Vash asked.

"Of course I'm coming, Spiky."

"Well we're not paying for you." Vash lowered his eyebrows and folded his arms stubbornly. Wolfwood tended to be _a few dollars short_ whenever he traveled with Vash, and sometimes at the end of the trip, Vash would be too. Vash knew from the moment he met the Priest and he had drank all of the Vash's water that he would be a rough one to have around. And lately it would seem that Wolfwood was doing a pretty good job of proving this assumption true.

"You don't need to because I'm riding my motorcycle." Wolfwood announced calmly. "Come on Millie, let's leave these two" -he glanced at Vash- "_alone_." Wolfwood stood up and walked to the door.

"I'll see you later Ms. Meryl." Millie waved a farewell and exited, the Priest followed behind her.

Both Vash and Meryl sighed when the door had closed. After a few moments, Meryl stood up and cleared the empty pudding cup and plastic spoon, glad to see them in the trash.

"You better go pack," Meryl suggested.

Vash stared at the pile of business cards, remembering an earlier conversation with Wolfwood. "I already have," he answered.

This information surprised Meryl. She hadn't even started.

"Does it seem like Wolfwood has been acting odd lately?" Vash asked.

Odd? _Odd?_ "Vash, odd doesn't even begin to cover it!" Meryl answered.

"Did you know he was coming with us?" Vash asked.

Meryl came back to the table side, but the question had provided her with too much energy to sit down. "No. Millie didn't say anything either. A part of me wondered about it, I mean, he does follow us around."

"Yeah, but not all the time…"

"And with Millie…we might be stuck with him for a while."

That Priest was up to something, Vash was sure of it.

Author's note: I adore reviews.


	5. Eat Your Words

Author's note: Thanks for the reviews, compliments, and suggestions. As for Vash's broomhead goofy side, it's coming. I was planning for it to be in this update, but this part of the story took a little more room than I had expected. And I guess I have been spelling Spikey wrong, so thanks for the correction. According to "spell check" it should be "Spiky" but according to the manga, it should be "Spikey". As for Wolfwood and Millie's relationship suggestion, let me just say that there are other reasons… but I'll see what I can do.

SMACK!

Vash slapped his money on the dark surfaced counter. Finally. _Finally_, he was at the front of the line. He had waited for a half an hour- and been butted twice- to make it to the front of this line, and now that he was here, he wasn't going to waste a second.

"Can I help you sir?" The woman was much too enthusiastic. Her blinding white teeth reflected the room's lighting and were framed by her vibrant cherry red lips.

"I need a Sandsteamer ticket for today at 11:00." Vash explained, trying to keep urgency out of his voice.

"Today at 11:00 am?" The woman asked, still smiling.

"Yes. Please."

The sugar-coated woman placed her elbows on the counter and stared into Vash's eyes. Her index finger found a loop in her luscious blond hair a convenient way to dispense energy. The loop twirled around, tempting Vash's eyes with distraction.

"Hmmm…" She said.

Thick like a bag of vanilla-soiled cotton balls, the essence of her perfume lingered under the gunman's nose.

Impatiently, Vash drummed the top of his double dollar bill.

The woman caught the hint and the over exaggerated smile returned. "Oh yes, we sold out."

"What!" He demanded. "But I need- When?"

"I think that old man that was in front of you bought our last one."

Er! That old codger! Vash knew he shouldn't have let him cut, but the old man was so old that he probably didn't even see Vash there. Then again… how could he miss him? It wasn't exactly easy to overlook a huge red coat.

"Please, isn't there any? I'll pay you double the price!"

The woman's plastic face had a flickering twitch at this suggestion- it was light, like a slight flutter of wings. Locking her fingers, she rested her chin on her knuckles.

"I'd like to help, but I can't sell you something that's doesn't exist." Then she lowered her voice. "It's against our mission statement, not to mention how much commotion there would be at having an extra passenger."

"But this is an emergency."

"I wish I could help." She smiled, and then called out for the next person in the line.

After grabbing his money, Vash was pushed out of the way by a middle-aged man. Slowly he made it back out of the small frugal building and into the sunlight. Sighing, he flipped his sunglasses on. The sky was very sunny with light refreshing breezes; it couldn't have reflected his mood any less. On his way back to the rickety old hotel, he pondered of other optional routes he and the girls could take. He knew that the bus didn't go straight to the city, but maybe they could get off somewhere else and hook onto the route at a different bus stop. Perhaps they could get thomases…but that was more trouble than it was worth, the animals would require a lot of attention, and they would have the burden of supplying them with food.

Once he had climbed the creaking stairs of the hotel, he pushed the insurance girls' door open. Their luggage was placed neatly against the adjacent wall. Millie was writing on a paper at the table, and Meryl had just removed her high school yearbook from the under its short leg.

"Hullo, Mr. Vash," Millie chirped. "Are you about ready to leave?"

Vash proceeded to retell the events of his morning, and did so with bravery. Every word that left his mouth seemed to sour Meryl's expression, until it looked like someone had slipped her a lemon when she was expecting an orange. Finally he finished with a sigh to express his disappointment.

Meryl went ballistic.

"Vash! Why didn't you tell us you hadn't bought a ticket? We would have bought you one when we bought ours days ago!"

"You already have yours?" Vash asked with surprise.

"Of course we already have ours- you waited the morning of! Uugh!" Meryl gripped her hair. "I can't believe you procrastinated so long!"

"But I always buy the tickets the morning of," Vash answered in a quiet voice.

"What are you going to do?" Meryl asked. She was pacing now, her sleek legs rushed back and forth in front of the table. The table wobbled every time she walked passed its weak side.

Millie continued to write her letter, despite the table's sea-like swaying.

"You could get a ride with Mr. Wolfwood. I'm sure he would let you if you asked." She said.

Meryl froze and turned to look at Vash. That was it. That was the only option. The spark in her eyes revealed her opinion to Vash before the words left her mouth. Like an ominous overcast, an earlier accusation to the Priest entered Vash's mind. He couldn't ask that Priest for a ride! The Priest would never let it go!

"You have to ask him," Meryl said, her eyes were wide and glistening.

"No way! I can't ask him for a ride, not after I rubbed it in his face!" Vash cried.

Meryl lowered her eyebrows at the gunman. "You better ask him. You'll have to eat your words." she concluded.

"His room is down the hall passed two rooms," Millie mentioned.

Vash knew this already, but he enjoyed the comment to buy him more time for an excuse. He grasped the perfect one, but when he turned to Meryl to express it, he immediately changed his mind. She was glaring at him. Her icy expression seemed to suffocate the outlaw insomuch that he found himself departing the room in silence. Grudgingly he shuffled for the Priest's door. When he raised his hand to knock, the Priest spoke.

"Come in, Hun, it's unlocked."

With teeth clenched, Vash turned and opened the door.

The Priest's room, Vash's room, and the girls' room were supposed to be identical (and maybe they were at one time), but because of poor care, they each owned their individuality. For example, in Wolfwood's room the carpet was somehow peeling away from the ground, his dresser drawer didn't shut, and the lighting buzzed like some kind of insect. The noise was very irritating, and Vash was thankful it wasn't an attribute of his own room, or else he may have gone insane by now.

Wolfwood was crouched over a dull green unzipped bag and putting a can of shaving cream in the inside pocket. His jacket was hanging over the back of a chair and his cross was sinking into the bed.

"I'm just about ready when-" He turned. "Spikey? Hey, knock before you just walk in here! Does this place look open to the public, where's the privacy!"

"You told me to come in!" Vash answered.

"I didn't tell _you_, I thought you were Millie." He growled and zipped up the bag with more force than necessary. His hand left the zipper and he looked back to Vash with a sly gleam in his eye. "Which remind me," he stepped closer to Vash, displaying a mischievous smile. "How's Meryl these days?"

Vash stared back into Wolfwood's beetle black eyes inanimately.

"Keh. Spikey, you wanted advice, and yet you still haven't taken it. Isn't it about time you _did_ something with your life?" Wolfwood asked.

"I do stuff with my life! A lot more than profiting off confessionals!" Vash answered defensively. "And anyway, I never asked for advice, you just started spilling your experiences out to me."

"So you didn't ask out loud, but you were thinking about it. Admit it; you were eating up everything that came out of my mouth that night." Wolfwood pointed an intimidating index finger at the outlaw.

"I didn't come here to discuss _that night_. Or Meryl, or any of this grocery business." Vash exclaimed. He was tired of this abundant topic with the Priest, he was beginning to think it was Wolfwood's second favorite pass time (first being Millie).

"Alright," Wolfwood said, trying to conceal the itch to smile at Vash's words. "What _are_ you here for?"

Vash's eyes found the large cross displayed on the bed. The bed seemed to bend under its weight, in fact, Vash was surprised it hadn't already snapped due to its poor quality. Then he wondered if anyone in the other rooms had been listening to them.

"Ssssspppiiiiikkkeeeeyy….?"

"Ineedaride."

The words were out so quickly, Wolfwood didn't catch anything other than "I". When Vash looked at him with such a serious expression, the Priest decided the information was something important.

"What?" Wolfwood asked, staring at Vash. His eyebrows curved in confusion.

"I need a ride…to get to the reunion…" Vash said again. "The Sandsteamer tickets are all sold out."

Wolfwood stared at him and blinked. "Did you just ask me for a ride?"

Vash hesitated and then resulted to a nod.

Wolfwood stared at Vash squarely in his aqua eyes, and Vash dared stare back. Then, ignoring the question entirely, Wolfwood turned back to the chair and pulled his black jacket off. In silence the Priest slipped one arm- two arms in it and readjusted it to fit his shoulders. The added clothing made him look cleaner, sharper, and judging by his appearance, it seemed unlikely that he contained as terrible a malady as smoking. And yet the package of cigarettes was placed comfortably in his pant pocket. Wolfwood's hand found the box and fingered it open. Without his eyes, his fingers relieved the box of a cigarette while his other hand searched for the midnight blue lighter. The Priest lit the cigarette and began his regimen with a deep breath. Vash watched him inhale the chemicals, still waiting for an answer. Wolfwood exhaled the smoke slowly and put away the lighter. Before picking up his deep dull green bag, he sighed.

"I don't have any other way of getting there…" Vash said.

"You're coming?" Wolfwood asked. He avoided looking at Vash, and instead rested his eyes on the corner of the room where a tan stain lived

"Of course I'm coming! I have to go!"

Wolfwood put the cigarette up to his lips again. "Well, _I'm_ not taking you." He glanced at Vash. "You know, I think we've had this conversation before. Something about a certain someone not wanting my company when he traveled."

Vash grumbled something.

"What was that?" Wolfwood asked.

"I was only joking," Vash said.

"Were you?" Wolfwood left the chair and moved to the bed on the west side of the room. He pulled up the large cross and secured it on his back. Then he deliberately marched passed the outlaw and out the door. "I think there's only one seat."

"There's plenty of room," Vash insisted, following Wolfwood out the door.

"Well, I don't know, Spiky, with all this _stuff_ I have."

"I'll put it on my lap." Vash volunteered.

Wolfwood continued his journey towards the stairs, Vash walking in his wake. They walked over an area of the floor that creaked loudly every time weight was pressed down on it. This spot had been particularly distracting when hotel occupants returned to their room very late. Hopefully it would be one of the last times their shoes would hit it.

"Please Wolfwood! Please!"

"I'll consider it," Wolfwood answered, and waved his hand around.

"When will you be done thinking about it?" Vash asked and they reached the stairs.

Wolfwood stopped at the edge of the first step. He paused and then removed his cigarette. It was a long way to get to the bottom.

"How about we make a deal?"

"What kind of deal?" Vash asked slowly with a hint of suspicion. He could smell and almost taste the smoke that drifted behind the Priest. Personally, he didn't find it very pleasant.

Wolfwood dropped the cigarette and stepped on it until the fiery glow had disappeared. Then the Priest turned to Vash with another sly half smile. "I want you to kiss her."

"What? But I…"

"What's wrong? You went _grocery shopping_ with her, didn't you? A little kiss can't be much, just a package of jello in comparison. So I want you to kiss her."

"By when?" Vash asked.

Wolfwood resisted the itch to exercise his face muscles again; the outlaw was turning a very light red. "By the end of the high school reunion."

Vash was doing a terrible job at concealing his emotions. He shifted uneasily as negative ideas flashed through his head. He gave Wolfwood one little distorted truth about grocery shopping, and the Priest had to go and turn it into something more realistic. That's when it occurred to Vash that if he could somehow be sly enough, maybe he could get a ride and accomplish the task- at least in the Priest's eyes. Wolfwood had never specified where the kiss was to be planted. Best agree to the deal before anymore ideas hatched in the Priest's distorted mind.

"Yeah, alright." Vash agreed.

Wolfwood raised an eyebrow, not pleased with Vash's tone. The Priest knew Vash only to well. He was lying, still lying. It was evident by the blush across his face.

Just then they heard a door open and shut, but Wolfwood continued to study Vash.

"You have the room key?" It was Meryl, she and Millie were leaving. And Vash was wondering what he and Wolfwood were doing just standing at the top of the stairs.

"Oh no! I think I left it inside the room!" Millie said.

"Oh well, don't worry about it, I'm sure they have a spare at the front desk."

"Here it is! I found it, it was in my pocket."

Vash heard them walking towards the stairs. He looked back anxiously at Wolfwood.

"You're going to kiss Meryl?" Wolfwood asked.

"SH!" Vash hushed. He brought his index finger to his lips.

"Vash, I want to hear you say those words!" Wolfwood said loudly. He was enjoying this, and at the moment Vash hated everything about the Priest from his large cross to his enormous mouth.

"Shut up!" Vash hissed.

Wolfwood grinned. "Oh Me-ryl!" He said in a sing-song voice. "Vash has something for you! I think it could be some kind of gelatin!"

Vash attempted to flatten Wolfwood's lips against his tonsils. The gunman slapped his palm over the Priest's mouth with an excess amount of energy and drive, as the insurance girls neared them. They teetered for a moment on the stairs, but thankfully regained their balance. Meryl did not look pleased at the sight.

"What are you two doing?" She demanded. "If you're ever going to make it there, you have to at least try to leave before us!"

Wolfwood's sly smirk was finally gone and replaced with angry eyes on Vash. Vash on the other hand was still red. Since neither of them could find an answer, Meryl continued.

"I assume Wolfwood _is_ giving you a ride…" Meryl's eyes landed on Wolfwood. "Isn't he?"

Vash felt the Priest give a nod.

"Good, then there's no time to waste. We'll meet you at the inn."

"Bye Mr. Priest!" Millie waved and they began to depart down the stairs carrying bags of luggage.

Vash and Wolfwood stood still, Vash's hand still smashed over the Priest's mouth.

Once the girls reached the next landing, they turned and began their journey down another flight of stairs in the opposite direction.

Vash let out a sigh that was interrupted by a sharp pain in his hand. "Ow!" He said, and pulled it away. His hand throbbed and several rigid marks were imprinted across his skin. "Did you just bite me?"

"Eh! Your hand tastes disgusting!" Wolfwood growled. He made a light choking sound and began wiping his tongue clean with his own hands.

"Don't be so dramatic," Vash grumbled. He was sure his hand couldn't taste any worse than that cigarette Wolfwood enjoyed so much.

When Wolfwood had finished, he asked if Vash was planning to go get his luggage any time soon.

"You're going to let me come?" Vash asked.

"You agreed to the deal, didn't you?"

"Yeah."

"Good. I'm sure glad I didn't. Meryl's pissed."


	6. The Desert with a Motorcycle

Surrounded by excess luggage, Vash peered out of the motorcycle's sidecar. He hadn't realized that together, he and Wolfwood would have enough bags to occupy a well-kept woman. He could hardly see the road, and the dark fabric of their bags attracted intense sunlight, baking his skin. He anticipated their departure when he could finally have a slight breeze in his face.

Wolfwood lifted up his big mercy cross.

Vash's eyes widened. "You're not sticking that thing with me? I have everything else- oof!"

A sudden bulk squashed the outlaw's insides. His stomach retreated to his spinal cord and his ribs restricted his breathing patterns.

Wolfwood brushed off his palms. "You said you were going to keep everything on your lap," the Priest reminded.

"Yeah," Vash squeaked in an uncomfortably high voice. "My lap, not my stomach, chest, and shoulders! Why don't you help bear the burden with this cross?" Beads of sweat began to develop on the outlaw's face.

Wolfwood ignored him and slipped one long leg over the seat of the bike.

"Uh-oh," Vash squeaked. "I need to go to the bathroom."

"But you just went!" Wolfwood growled. "Spikey, the girls left over an hour ago!"

"Oh yeah?" He paused to fill his lungs with the minimum air necessary to speak. "Well, you'd need to go again too if you had all this stuff pressing" –breath- "on your abdomen!"

For a moment they froze glaring at one another- Vash blue in the face. Finally Wolfwood rolled his eyes and jumped off the motorcycle. Grudgingly, he relieved Vash of the cross, and turned to the other bags.

Vash inhaled a full breath of air without the jab of the cross in his lungs.

Wolfwood picked up his deep green bag when Vash announced that he seemed to be quite fine.

"Actually, I don't think I need to go to the bathroom anymore. It must have just been the pressure of that cross."

In silent irritation, Wolfwood thrust the cross back onto the outlaw. It landed like a cannon ball across his front. A small cough let the Priest know the force was enough to knock the air out of the needle noggin. As an accent, Vash's neck gave out and his head flopped like a lame duck to his shoulder. His eyes tumbled in spirals.

Wolfwood returned to his seat and twisted the key.

Vash's face began to regain its blue tone again, and just as they left the town, the Priest could spy some purple undertones.

The ride proved to be a silent one due to the fact that Vash knew the moment he opened his mouth, Wolfwood would bring up _jello_ again, or worse, some other physical intimacy like broccoli, ground beef, or strawberries. Vash had been scarred, officially. When his stomach began to growl and food crept into his mind, so did Meryl. The very thought of his empty stomach was irritating. Leave it to the Priest to come up with such a life threatening metaphor.

Vash peered out from the cross. Normally he would see a wide selection of dirt, but this time he saw a wide selection of dirt _and_ a Sandsteamer. He called it improvement and dared talk.

"Looks like a big Sandsteamer," Vash noted.

"Oh yeah, it's big."

Vash could tell by Wolfwood's voice that he had already put too much thought on the subject. The gunman continued to watch the Sandsteamer; dust flew up near the sides and plastered its dark skin.

"Hey, do you think the girls are in there?" Wolfwood asked.

"Are you kidding?" Vash snorted. "They must be iles and iles and _iles_ ahead of us."

"They could be in there, with this baby." Wolfwood answered. He proceeded to give the motorcycle an affectionate pat.

"No motorcycle can go that fast, not even yours." Vash stated.

"Shhh!" Wolfwood cooed to the bike. Vash saw him rubbing it just below the handle bars. "He didn't mean it."

Vash blinked. He knew Wolfwood liked his new motorcycle, but he had never quite pictured him talking to it. As for the Sandsteamer, Vash restrained from pointing out it was going the wrong direction anyway. He knew he was already on the Priest's bad side, and he didn't want to get in an argument about a Sandsteamer. He sighed as it passed from them at amazing speed, treading iles and iles faster than the little motorcycle. Inside, that Sandsteamer had air conditioning, cold water, and flushable toilets, maybe even donuts.

The rest of the ride that day had nothing more exciting. Vash had watched dirt, dirt, and, yes, more dirt go by. His forehead felt dirty with dust and sweat alike. Once in a while Wolfwood would hum very quietly, so quiet that sometimes it was hard to distinguish it from the humming of the engine, and Vash would have never noticed if it wasn't for the change in pitches.

When the suns had finally reached the horizon, Wolfwood parked the bike in the middle of no where and pulled out the key.

"Well, Spikey, it's time to get some sleep unless you want to take the night shift." Wolfwood acknowledge and stepped off the bike.

"Keh! You know I don't know how to drive these things, let alone in the dark! Just get this cross off me."

The Priest smirked and took out a cigarette. Vash watched him light it, feeling annoyed. At his own leisure, Wolfwood blew out a puff of smoke.

"Alright," he said, and slowly came to Vash's aide.

Wolfwood removed the cross easily and stabbed the end into the gentle sand. The sand sloped around it and held it in place. Vash inhaled a much needed full breath of air, taking advantage of the opportunity to fill his lungs to their capacity. Wolfwood worked to remove a large amount of other bags and, like the cross, tossed them into the sand, until the outlaw was able to escape the tiny seat.

Silent, they both worked to make a usable camp. Sleeping bags were set on the soft sand after removing any stones embedded under the surface, and then a small lantern was placed in between them. Vash felt his stomach grumble when he had finished, he reached for their bag full of food and began to rummage through its contents: canned soup, canned beans, canned corn, canned peas, some type of canned mystery meat and, alas, canned pudding.

"Wolfwood, where's the firewood?" Vash asked.

"Firewood?" The Priest asked.

"Yes, firewood, you know, to build a fire with?" Vash elaborated.

"I don't buy firewood!" Wolfwood scoffed. "That stuff is expensive and lasts only several minutes. We might as well burn your money, Spikey." The Priest inhaled another breath from the cigarette. Vash watched it burn and decrease in stature before asking how they were going to heat up any food. "Vash, we're camping in the middle of nowhere, we don't _need_ to heat up our food. There's a can opener in there, what more do you need?"

After reluctant consideration, Vash picked a can of soup. "What do you want? Soup, vegetables, pudding, beans or…" Vash looked at the mystery meat label, "whatever this gunk is."

"Throw me a can of beans." He said, and then put out the little cigarette.

Vash tossed it to him and returned to his sleeping bag with the can opener. He popped the top open and stared into the opaque substance, reminding himself he was lucky it was getting dark so he wouldn't have to see what was in the soup. He handed the can opener to the Priest, still staring at the can.

"You _did_ bring spoons didn't you?" Vash asked.

"And waste our water on washing them?"

Vash looked at the Priest wide eyed. How little did this man want to survive on? The trip was difficult enough without being utensil-less.

"Naw, I'm just kidding. Lighten up, Spikey," Wolfwood smiled and tossed the utensil to the gunman. "I've never heard you so quiet."

Vash stirred the contents in his can with the spoon as he tried to come up with a reasonable reply.

After taking a bite of his beans, Wolfwood lit up and then quickly replaced it with his sly smile. The little light from the lantern reflected in his eyes and cast a yellow glow across his face. "You're nervous." He accused.

"About wha-"

"The reunion is practically here, and the man with $$60 billion on his head, is nervous!" The idea was humorous to the Priest; he even attached a laugh at the end of the sentence. The yellow light danced in his mouth with frivolity.

"I'm not nervous!" Vash answered defensively. "If you have forgotten, I had 5,000 pounds pressing on my stomach and chest today. I want to put you in that spot and see if you can even breathe! Maybe you would be quiet too. I bet you couldn't even hum a tune if you were sitting where I was." Vash took a violent bite of his soup.

Vash's comment stirred Wolfwood's well being quite greater than he had expected. The smirk had disappeared and instead, the Priest's jaw hung, lame, leaving his mouth slightly open. This pleased Vash, so he elaborated.

"I know you told me not to bring my walkman, and now I understand just why. Why do I need one when I have my own personal one right beside me?"

Wolfwood glared at his dinner. "I wasn't humming. That was the engine, it always hums."

Vash let his smile leak through, the sky was growing ever darker and he was unsure if Wolfwood could even see his grin in the lamp light. "I didn't know it knew how to hum _Forever Mine _or _Skip to my Lou_. That bike really is impressive."

Wolfwood put down the can of beans. "That reminds me, I need to get her ready for bed." He stood up, swiping the lantern.

Vash was confused by his comment until he watched the Priest walk over to the motorcycle. Then to his surprise, the Priest opened one of the bags and pulled out a dirt brown cotton sheet and began to cover the bike. Vash stifled a laugh.

"What? Is she going to get cold in the night?" He asked.

"No," Wolfwood answered. He pulled the blanket from all sides until the motorcycle was completely covered. "I put a lot of work into getting this bike, and I don't want anyone stealing her." He explained.

Vash had finished his cold soup by the time Wolfwood had sat back down. He climbed into his sleeping bag and stared up at the stars in near silence. All that broke the quiet was the repeated chewing and swallowing noise of the Priest. Vash's thoughts wandered aimlessly as his eyes scanned the colorful moons and began to search for constellations. He had found four when Wolfwood spoke.

"Don't worry, Spikey, she likes you." He said.

Vash rolled over to face him. "The bike?" He asked.

Wolfwood jammed the empty can into the ground. "No, Needle Noggin! The little Insurance Girl!"

His answer caught him off guard, but he silently regained himself. "That's what you think," He answered grumpily.

"No," Wolfwood pointed a finger at Vash. "That's what I bet you."

Here he went again, talking about that night this had all started and Wolfwood had become suddenly interested when Vash had let his feelings slip. The slip was an honest one, but right afterward Wolfwood began interrogating him with questions until Vash had confided his whole self to the Priest. At the moment, he had felt quite relieved to have told Wolfwood, but then the Priest back fired and somehow tricked Vash into this huge mess and began playing cupid.

"I've seen the way she looks at you."

"Which look? The annoyed one or the death-threatening one?"

"No…" The Priest growled, losing patience. "The look she has when you're _not_ talking to her- when she's watching you."

"Yeah, because she's relieved I'm _not_ talking to her." Vash even laughed, it was an argument Wolfwood was losing.

"You'll see," was all he said, and then with one swift blow, the lantern was out.

Vash was sleeping relatively well through the night, but when it began to reach the peak hours of the morning, he woke with a jolt and found himself shivering. His skin was plagued with goosebumps and his teeth chattered. In hopes to warm himself, he rubbed his arms. Slowly the bumps fell smoothly back into his skin, but the moment his rubbing stopped, they reemerged. After checking that his sleeping bag had been zipped up all the way, he pulled his limbs together and tried to ignore the outside nip. He closed his eyes again and waited….and waited….and waited.

He wouldn't fall asleep, not being this cold. Opening his eyes he remembered the motorcycle. Quietly, he crept to it, taking his time to avoid waking Wolfwood. With stealth he began tearing the brown dust-colored blanket away from the bike. They were in the middle of nowhere, he told himself, who would find them in the dark and steal a motorcycle without the key? Even if the thief did pursue the adventure, Vash was sure he would hear the person. At last the blanket was free. Vash tiptoed away from the bike until BAM!

Pain surged up his toe and he suddenly felt his heart beat pulsing through it. He bit his lips to prevent his cry. He heard Wolfwood readjust himself in his sleeping bag and waited until a quiet snore issued. With watering eyes, his free hand felt the object. This cross had to be his worst nightmare, if it wasn't lifeless, Vash would have been sure it was out to get him.

He crawled back to his bed, pulling the blanket around him.

….

The next morning Wolfwood woke up early. He yawned and began to stretch out his back; today would be an even longer day driving. His eyes scanned the dawning sky for a moment, and then returned to the ground where he found the cross. The weapon was leaning sideways in the sand, casting a dark elongated shadow just over the outlaw's bed that continued to make a large cross just above it.

And that's when he noticed it. His bike was gone.

Wolfwood stared at the empty space for nearly a minute to assure that his eyes hadn't failed him. Then he took a double take at Vash and sneered when he noticed the blanket. In pure rage, the Priest walked savagely to him, and ripped the blanket from his grip, he even went as far as to give the outlaw a friendly little kick.

When the blond opened his eyes, Wolfwood demanded, "where's my motorcycle?"

Rubbing the sleep from his face, Vash sat himself up and glanced at their supplies. To his disbelief, the bike was gone.

"You took her blanket, Needle Noggin! And now someone stole her!"

Vash stood up. "We're in the middle of nowhere, who would steal it?" He asked with a calm tone. He avoided Wolfwood's belligerent eyes and scanned the area. "There it is!" He pointed to the bulk lying sideways on the ground at the foot of a hill. "Bet they couldn't get far without a key."

Before he could finish, the Priest was racing to it. Vash followed at a slower pace. Wolfwood was kneeling at its side when he found him. The bike was bent irregularly, like a gigantic foot had stepped on it, and the precious red paint was scuffed terribly. Thousands of footprints littered the area, but because of the soft sand, they were impossible to decipher.

"There are so many footprints, it almost looks like an animal did this," Vash voiced.

"I don't care if an alien pirate monkey did it, I'm hunting them down." Wolfwood vowed, struggling to stay calm.

Vash blinked as Wolfwood took a look at the engine. His face gained a look of surprise mingled with disgust. His eyes were stained with distaste while his mouth hung open. Vash saw him carefully probe at something out of view. He then threw his head in Vash's direction and glared.

"Spikey, get over here!" He ordered in a threatening voice.

"Do I have to?" Vash whined. Inside Vash knew the question was useless, but Wolfwood's eyes were bearing into him and he would quite like to keep his distance from the Priest.

"Get over here and explain yourself!" Wolfwood growled, pointing at the engine.

"Alright…" Vash gloomily walked closer, preparing for an attack.

"What's this?" Wolfwood asked.

Vash followed his finger and found a luscious pastry stuck in the engine. "A donut?" He asked, bewildered. Suddenly his mouth began to water, but he tried to ignore the sensation. "How the-"

"That's right a donut!" Wolfwood yelled before Vash could finish, like a mouse trap he pounced to his conclusion. "Who loves donuts? You! You did this to her!"

Vash stared in disbelief at the Priest, and the Priest stared angrily back. Just the way Wolfwood stood made him look fierce and wild, like an animal ready to attack.

"Why would I destroy our only transportation?" Vash cried.

"Because _you_ are afraid to go to the reunion!" Spat Wolfwood in return.

"And why would I put a donut in the engine? For one, I'm currently not allowed to eat them, so I wouldn't have any, secondly, if I _did_ have one, I would have rather ate it than stick it in the engine, _and_ why would I waste all my time walking back and forth in the sand to make these tracks?"

Despite Vash's efforts to prove himself, Wolfwood still glared. After what seemed like several minutes, he looked back to the engine and pulled out the pastry with a quick jerk. He held it away from his body with his thumb and index finger like it was an infested rat. Vash watched it eagerly. With one quick movement, the Priest spread out his fingers and let it fall to the ground. When it hit the dirt, grains of sand clung onto its moist sides. To make its death more painful, Wolfwood smothered the edge of it with his shoe, using the same technique he used to put out cigarettes. After kicking more sand on it, he turned back to the engine.

Disappointed, Vash frowned.

"Well, we might be in luck, Spikey, I think it will still work, but you owe me big time for this! Even if you didn't ruin it, you still took the blanket off and exposed her to the world."

After eating canned corn for breakfast, the two worked to repack their sleeping bags and clean up their camping mess. Vash was not looking forward to the cramped and twisted ride, and he knew if he did one more thing wrong, Wolfwood would wring his neck, so he remained silent when the cross pressed itself against his bladder again.

"My poor baby," Wolfwood patted the twisted motorcycle. The bike was dented sideways and Vash was curious how they would get anywhere. It would be impossible to make a left turn, and he had trouble wondering if they would be traveling in large right circles.

To their relief, the engine sounded fine when it roared. Wolfwood cocked the front wheel as far left as possible to retain a somewhat straight line and then they were off.

A nice breeze was in the air, and even a few little white clouds helped shield them from the burning suns. The ride wasn't too bad considering the bike's condition, and Vash was drifting off to sleep when Wolfwood spoke again.

"Brace yourself, Spikey. We're kicking up the speed."

Vash opened his eyes and saw sand dunes of all sizes in front of them; some only several feet tall and others hundreds. As promised, the handicapped motorcycle increased its speed. If they were to go too slow, the wheels would get caught in the sand. The motorcycle climbed and conquered many of the sand dunes. Vash felt his stomach leave him every time they descended down one, and the cross pressed against him with each bump. Wolfwood directed the bike toward the largest sand dune Vash had ever seen. The ridge at the top touched the blue sky and the steep slope seemed to glare at them under the suns' heat. Accelerating, the bike began to climb it. Vash hugged the luggage as the motorcycle let a loud sputtering noise. Wolfwood demanded it to continue climbing, but he too looked worried at the sickening noise of the engine. To his horror, Vash felt the bike begin to decrease in speed.

"Come on," Wolfwood growled, pressing the gas with more force.

_Put put put put. _

They were near the ridge when the bike regained a burst of energy and propelled them to the top. Both sighed in relief, but before it fully escaped their lungs, their heart's sped up to 100 iles per hour. Their faces were swiped clean of relief and replaced with looks of pure horror. They had reached the other side of the sand dune, but the slope was twice as long and twice as steep as the other side, and at the end was not the ground, but a large drop.

Vash screamed as they both fell into the hands of gravity, slipping forward in their seats. And to make matters worse, Wolfwood struggled to retain the cock of the front wheel, and before Vash knew it they were turning sideways. He screamed louder until the cross's weight fell fully onto him, and then it turned into a dying squeak that put all dying animal cries to shame.

"This is all _your_ fault!" Wolfwood growled, and reached for Vash's neck, nearly choking him. Vash's squeak turned into a choking squawk as his head was forced in a mad frenzy from Wolfwood's shaking grasp. His whole upper body rocked to and fro from the Priest as Wolfwood strangled him.

Then due to Wolfwood's hands being occupied, the steering of the motorcycle was lost entirely and they began descending down the slope backwards. A bag escaped Vash's clutches and flew into the air, hitting Wolfwood square in the face. The Priest lost balance and tumbled overboard, rolling in the sand. Vash screamed louder in horror as he passed up the rolling Priest. The bike was spinning out of control and slightly tipping because of the loss in balance. It hit a rock and tumbled, making Vash and the entire luggage fly out onto the slope.

"AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!" He screamed. As Wolfwood gained speed down the slope, Vash latched onto him, his nails digging into the Priest's arms. They tumbled like rag dolls. Wolfwood was screaming too now as the motorcycle flew over the ledge with great momentum.

"SHE'S GONNA DIE!" He screamed.

"WE'RE GOING TO DIE!" Vash yelled.

Next was the cross, it shot into the air at the drop off and disappeared, followed by various bags.

"WAAAHHH!" Wolfwood dug his fingers into the sand as they neared the ledge, clawing the ground desperately, but the sand was too soft to even slow him.

WHOOSH!

The ground disappeared from underneath them and they were flying in the air, weightless until _thump_. Wolfwood hit the ground first and Vash followed soon after, landing on the Priest where a loud _crack_ sounded and was followed by a quick _oofff_.

Author's note: sorry for the long wait, the next chapter shouldn't take me _that_ long to get up. Thanks for all the reviews and thanks for reading!


	7. The Desert without a Motorcycle

Opening his eyes, Vash realized he ached all over. Slowly his eyes rolled over to the Priest's. Wolfwood looked unconscious, his lids were drawn shut and a strand of drool was escaping out the side of his open mouth.

Vash pushed himself off Wolfwood's crushed middle and scanned the area. The bags had been scattered everywhere, some were upside down and one had split open at the top, leaving Wolfwood's objects displayed across the hot sand. What was most ominous of the scene was not the broken bag, but the large cross that had landed up right in the sand just above their heads… the gunman didn't even dare look to see where the bike had landed.

After standing up, Vash brushed the dust off his red coat. Specks of it landed on Wolfwood's face, making his skin twitch.

On a positive note, they definitely wouldn't be running into anymore cliffs or sand dunes for a long time. The surrounding land was flatter than a pancake, but Vash could make out a tiny black blob in the distance.

"NEEDLE NOGGIN!"

The words were fierce and powerful.

Vash whirled around and realized the Priest was no longer unconscious on the ground but staring at the dirt a good distance away with his hands gripping his scalp. Immediately Vash shrunk in stature as he spotted the mangle heap of metal just feet away from the Priest. Like a dog convicted of trouble, Vash slowly made his way to Wolfwood, leaving a long trail of shuffling footprints in the sand.

Wolfwood turned to face Vash as the gunman approached. His face was contorted into a death-chilling expression, complete with mad eyes and baring teeth.

Vash tensed up, ready for an attack.

"You killed my baby!" Wolfwood barked. "How the _heck_ are we supposed to get there _now_?"

"Are you sure?" Vash asked, delaying another attack. He shuffled to the heaping metal. If the bike was twisted before, it was definitely mangled now. The motorcycle was bent in ways even he knew was against its anatomy. "She might still make it," Vash said. "Look, if we just try to untangle her a bit…"

Wolfwood leaned over the bike with the outlaw.

"…and if we can patch up the wheels," Vash designated the area with touch of his foot and immediately a loud disturbing noise sounded, followed by a flaming explosion that knocked not only him, but the Priest down as well. Vash found himself with a face full of hot sand and could hear the crackling of the burning bike. Before he knew it a large mass was on top of him attacking him.

"You stupid outlaw!" Wolfwood yelled, yanking Vash's arm out of the socket. A pop sounded, and the Priest turned to pulling Vash's hair out of his scalp. "I told you not to come with me! You've killed her! Do you have any idea how long it took for me to get that baby! With the orphanage to pay for and- and- and YOU to put up with!"

"Mercy! Mercy!" Vash cried, struggling to free himself from the Priest's tackled grasp.

Wolfwood succeeded in pulling out a chunk of hair, and griped onto another patch.

"Help me! Someone help me! The Priest is murdering me!" Vash screamed louder. Finally he found the perfect moment and freed himself, crawling away at high speeds until he was smashed to the ground again.

They rolled around in the dirt like animals, so similar Wolfwood actually resorted to biting Vash's hand for the second time. Sand flew in the air and their faces.

"I'm gonna kill you, Spikey!" Wolfwood raged, pinning the outlaw against the dirt, breathing hard.

For a moment all Vash felt was a large amount of fear, but then suddenly his feet grew extra warm. They started sweating as the heat intensified.

"…and then when I'm done pulling out all your hair, I'm going to strap you to a Sandsteamer…"

"FIRE! FIRE!" Vash screamed.

Wolfwood heard the crackling behind them and his evil expression fell limp. At lightning-speed, he jerked his head and saw the soles of Vash's boots melting, and just at that moment his pants caught flame.

"FIRE! FIRE!" The Priest cried, and began scrambling off Vash, taking care to knee him in the mouth.

In a panic, both of them scurried away, Wolfwood flailing his legs madly, making the fire intensify. He could feel the heat burning his skin as it devoured the fabric.

"HELP!" Wolfwood yelled, tossing sand onto the burning pant leg.

Vash scrambled to their supplies scattered across the sand. Eyes wide, he retrieved a canteen and ran back to the Priest. He was about to poor the liquid onto Wolfwood's burning pants, when the Priest screamed louder in horror.

"GET AWAY FROM ME! THAT'S FUEL YOU IDIOT!"

Vash quickly threw the canteen, and evidently it landed by the burning bike with a small explosion. But the outlaw didn't have time to acknowledge it he had just found the bottle full of water and rushed back to the Priest. This time he turned the container upside and let all its contents flush out onto Wolfwood's pants.

The fire was eradicated, leaving little more than a wisp of smoke.

Both of them struggled to catch their breath. Vash stared at Wolfwood's leg. The fire was unable to devour the entire piece of clothing, but his leg was exposed from the middle of his shin down- even his shoes had been bitten into by the flame. A large portion of the Priest's leg was burning red and hairless.

"You almost poured gasoline on me!" Wolfwood confronted once his breath was nearly normal.

"On accident! But I didn't, did I?"

"Humph."

Wolfwood got to his feet, Vash followed his actions.

"Now I can't even give her a proper burial, thanks to you."

"Hey, I just saved your life!" Vash growled.

Wolfwood ignored Vash as he wiped sweat from his forehead. He watched the fire burn in angered silence. Everything on the bike would be useless- they couldn't even use the fuel. He then turned and looked out over the desert. The flat vast area didn't lighten his spirits. His hand moved into his pocket for a cigarette, but found nothing but a large hole.

"Curse you!" He turned on Vash. "My cigarettes are gone!"

"You almost burned to death and _now_ you want to light a cigarette?"

"I wouldn't have almost burned to death if you hadn't exploded my motorcycle!"

"It was going to explode anyway!"

"Outlaws…" He grumbled and cast a sideways glance at Vash. "How come you didn't catch on fire?"

"My attire isn't flammable, it just melts," Vash answer matter-of-factly.

Wolfwood looked over Vash's boots and red coat. True enough; the red fabric was welded into the boots like crimson liquid frozen in place. His boots looked waxy and the buckle was dangling by a black glob.

"Glad I don't have to try and get myself out of that mess."

Vash was tired of standing and arguing idly with the Priest. He completely saved the man's life, whether or not the Priest wanted to admit it. Quietly, Vash began to gather up the bags and belongings. He wasn't going to just wait here in the burning heat, he had a reunion to get to- a reunion he promised an insurance girl he would be at. Admittedly, he had had worse than a few explosions and sand dunes.

Finally, he plopped the last bag at the cross where he had made a large pile. Somehow they needed to get across this desert, and preferably whole.

"Spikey, we can't carry all this." Wolfwood pointed out, extending his index finger toward the bunch. "You're going to have to leave some of your stuff behind."

"Okay, then let's go through and take out what we don't absolutely need," the outlaw suggested, and unzipped a dark green bag.

"Woah, woah, woah, hold up Spikey, that's _my_ bag."

Vash reluctantly handed the luggage to the Priest. "Then you can go through it."

"I'm keeping my stuff. I've worked hard for it. You killed my motorcycle- you're the one who should be dumping stuff."

Vash glared. "That's not fair, I'll get stuck carrying half of your stuff." He pointed out.

"It's perfectly fair!"

"How so?"

"You're an outlaw, and I'm a priest." Wolfwood said, and poked out his chest with pride.

"Very observant."

"Well, a man like me clearly needs all his belongings, they're holy." Wolfwood explained.

"My, so saintly," Vash said with a dash of sarcasm.

Knowing an argument would get them no where, Vash began to dispose a lot of his items (and a few of the Priest's when he could grasp the chance, including an extra pack of cigarettes hidden in an inside pocket). He pushed the items he could part with in a small hole he had dug. He stared a fast goodbye to his razor, hair gel and other belongings, and then pushed hot white sand over the top. Whoever had first abused the motorcycle, Vash wanted them far away from their trail if he could help it.

Both he and the Priest slung and grabbed the bags. Vash made sure the Priest was the one who had to be stuck with the threatening cross. Then slowly they began to walk across the perpetual desert with the beating suns on their faces. Wolfwood felt the sweat drip down his face near his temples. A part of him was slightly relieved that his pants had turned into shorts, and he willingly took off his jacket, hanging it up on the cross.

"Spikey, I need some water, I'm dying," Wolfwood said. The motions of his tongue brought a realization that his mouth felt like sand paper.

"I thought you had the water." Vash blinked.

"_Me_? No… I've never had it."

"Well, I don't have it."

Suddenly an earlier memory stabbed sadistically at their minds. Vash had dumped all their water on Wolfwood's burning pants. Silence spread over them as they both remembered the scene.

"Spiiiikeeey!" Wolfwood growled.

"You were on fire!" Vash reminded. "What was I supposed to do? Let it burn up your leg and continue to your shir-"

"Enough!" Wolfwood answered, wishing to hear as little as possible of what might have happened had the fire continued. "So we're going to dehydrate out here?"

"We do have that soup- I think most of it is made of water. I know I have that." Vash stopped walking and stirred through his bag. "Aha!" He exposed the can to the light which reflected off of the tin and continued straight into Wolfwood's eyes. "And…" Vash rummaged some more. "We also have the can opener." He handed the tool to the Priest.

Resisting the urge to curse again, Wolfwood opened the can as they continued walking. Even he, a priest, had little faith they would make it across this desert.

As the Suns began to disappear over the horizon, Vash wasn't the only one disappointed with the distance they had made. The cliff they had fallen off was far from invisible- in fact he thought he could still see a slight glow over a hunk of metal. This journey was going to be a long one.

"It's almost dark and we haven't gotten anywhere!" Wolfwood growled in irritation. He let the luggage tumble out of his hands into the dirt, but the cross he removed with some reverence. "It will have to be an early start tomorrow. We can beat heat and time."

Vash put down his bags as Wolfwood lit the lantern with his lighter. Like the night before, they quickly set out their sleeping bags and made do with a canned cold meal. Since Wolfwood had decided on an early start the next day, Vash tried to quickly fall into a deep slumber, but the Priest was wide awake staring up at the stars.

"She was a really good motorcycle," he broke the silence. "I saved up for her for months- almost a year even. My other one was just _old_. She did a good job even though her life was short, didn't she Spikey?"

"Uh-huh," Vash said, half listening.

The stars twinkled down on the Priest. "I hope she's in Eden. I bet there are a ton of other motorcycles for her to be with there, and an endless amount of fuel. She'll be taken better care of there- this desert climate never suited her."

"Eden… do you really think there is such a place?" Vash asked. Apparently _Eden_ was only word that had registered to his brain.

"Somewhere, but it's definitely not _here_. Good night, Vash." Wolfwood said, and blew out the lantern.

When Vash finally drifted off to sleep, he had a terrible dream about a motorcycle trying to run him over for revenge. Just when he thought he was done for, he was somehow transported into a beautiful place much like the rec room he used to visit with Rem. The surrounding area was bursting with green and life. Butterflies flew across the area and clouds were drifting through the blue sky. Then he saw the woman he missed so dearly- Rem was standing on a grass hill waiting for him, her hair whipping in the wind. Vash ran out to her.

"Rem," he greeted.

"Vash… you must take care of Knives, he is lost."

"How?" Vash asked desperately. "How can I convince him?"

"You must help him, Vash; you must never give up on him. Even his ticket to the future is blank. Ever since he was born, his ticket has been _cursed_." Rem's voice suddenly changed, it became deeper and rougher, more masculine. "_That's right you're cursed! Now wake up you Needle Noggin!"_

Odd…Vash thought. Her voice sounded nothing like her usual tone, yet extremely familiar. "Rem, are you alright?" Vash inquired.

"_What? Wake up you- Gr! VASH!_"

Rem grasped Vash tightly on the shoulders and shook him. He looked back into her irritated face until it distorted into a man's full of hushed intensity. Vash blinked his eyes, no longer was there sunshine but cold darkness.

"Wolfwood?" Vash asked.

"Of course! Who did you think it was? Who's _Rem_ anyway? An ex-girlfriend?"

"No!" Vash shot back quickly. He could barely see the outline of Wolfwood's skeptical look. "Nevermind, what is it?"

"Sh! Not so loud. They're here."

"Who's here?" Vash asked, lowering his voice.

"Those people who wrecked my motorcycle. Sh! Can you hear them? I think they're getting into our stuff! Those filthy pigs!"

Vash listened. Wolfwood was right about something, someone was definitely nearby. He could hear the individual's breathing and movement. The outlaw stiffened and his skin prickled.

"What should we do?" Vash whispered.

"Drive them away- attack them!" Wolfwood demanded, looking very livid.

"Are you mad? Don't you remember all those footprints in the sand? The people who damaged your motorcycle weren't few in numbers, and I'm not talking about five or six, there must be at least ten of them." Vash reminded.

"But they completely destroyed her. Vash, I don't think I can live with myself knowing that the villain was in my hands and I just let them walk away to ruin more bikes- I'm going after them!"

And before Vash could utter another syllable of discouragement, Wolfwood had disappeared from view. Quietly, Vash sat up peering through the darkness. He spotted the trespasser rummaging through Wolfwood's dark green bag, and the Priest creeping forward towards him, his curved back outlined under the moons' glare. A part of Vash began to wonder if the intruder had brought anymore donuts, and secretly hoped he could get to it before Wolfwood demolished it like the last. And that's when Vash spotted it. The intruder had not come alone. Looking beyond, the outlaw caught a glimpse of other large dark masses in the distance keeping a kind of outlook. At once Vash snuck out of his sleeping bag, trying desperately to catch up with the Priest without too much noise.

"Wolfwood," he whispered out, making his way closer to him by crawling in the sand on his elbows. "Stop!"

Irritated, the Priest brought his index finger to his mouth, warning Vash to be quiet. Then he returned his gaze to the hunched mass.

"Wolfwood, _look_!" Vash said hastily. He sped up and finally caught up to Wolfwood, grasping his arm and pointing to the distant figures. "He's not alone, he has a whole gang- they must be bandits. They probably have a place in this area and just take advantage of travelers."

"Well, they're not taking advantage of us!" Wolfwood whispered fiercely. "They're going to regret ever touching that bike!" He wiggled his way free of Vash and continued closer at a quicker pace. When he was near enough to attack, Vash realized the Priest had no weapon- all his guns were locked inside that cross of his. Yet this truth did not stop the Priest, he drew back his empty dinner tin can and hurled it at the closest person with a sharp war cry.

Vash watched the can hit the person in what he thought was square in the back (for the darkness made it unclear to tell), and he held his breath.

The intruder let out a piercing cry that reached the rest of his gang, and like the noise was some secret code, all of them began running.

"Hey, I'm not done with you yet!" Wolfwood bellowed.

But they didn't heed his words. All of them were making a mad dash away. Vash rushed over to Wolfwood, who was showing signs of considering a chase.

"We have to go after them," Wolfwood told Vash. "Come on!" The Priest rushed forward, but Vash grabbed his arm.

"Wolfwood, it's so dark, we can hardly see. We'll get lost if we don't keep walking straight! And they probably know this whole desert like the back of their hand!"

"Grrr, I bet they do!" He answered with disgust. "How dare they take and ruin our stuff? I can't let them get away with this!"

Reluctantly, Vash said, "We'll worry about it in the morning- when we have more light." And hopefully, he added in his head, Wolfwood would be a little saner when he had had some more sleep. The gunman pulled the Priest back to his sleeping bag. "Just get some sleep."

With a yawn, Wolfwood did little to resist this idea, he was still very tired. Slowly he entangled himself in the warm comfort of the bag. Vash did the same in his, and with a sigh tried to fall back asleep.

"We'll go after them in the morning," Wolfwood said, before letting sleep take over him.

Vash agreed silently.

Author's note: This chapter was much longer, it was becoming so long I had to split it into two. So, it should be an even shorter wait for the next one, considering I have almost half of it done. Thanks for reading and reviewing!


	8. Can Master

Morning came rather too early. The outlaw could have sworn he had just fallen asleep when a loud raucous bang of two tin cans being hit together sounded.

"Rise and shine!" Wolfwood beckoned, clashing the two cans to make some sort of an alarm clock.

Vash groaned and rolled over with his eyes still shut.

"Fine, I tried nicely," Wolfwood snapped, and then he proceeded to plant a hard kick into Vash's side. "Get up Needle Noggin!" He retreated his foot for another kick, but Vash quickly scrambled up, rubbing his eyes. "Now, I already put away my sleeping bag and had breakfast, I think you ought to do the same in five minutes flat. I took the liberty of bringing you a can and can opener.

"You're so kind," Vash yawned.

So with speed, the gunman worked his way to complete these tasks in a fast and sufficient manner. When they were completed, Wolfwood was already beginning to wander away. Vash rushed to his side.

The morning was still very young, the sunrise was just beginning. To the east the darkness was slowly turning into a violet shade, and stars were disappearing. Vash knew that the Priest had taken the initiative to depart as soon as the footprints in the sand were visible. Once again, hundreds of them littered the area, and this time the gunman and Priest were following them, adding their own to the collection.

A half an hour later, Vash asked, "what if we get clear off course? We don't have time to get lost, Wolfwood. We don't even have any water."

"Exactly, Spikey. If there are people here, they must have water, and more food, maybe even some decent shelter. How else would they survive out here? I'm not just following these tracks for revenge- I want some flavor-less water."

Vash couldn't argue Wolfwood's point. Nice clear water sounded very appealing, but he only hoped the bandits would be willing to give them some without a fight.

Hours passed with few words and the suns began to burn bright and hot at midday. Sweat trickled down the back of Vash's burning neck and despite the soup, his mouth was dry while his tongue seemed to enlarge. He knew they were just entering the hottest time of the day, and felt little prepared. Wolfwood showed no signs of stopping, but Vash had to agree he found little point in taking a break. Shade was nowhere in sight and the more they walked, the sooner they would get to water. The heat wave hit its peak and just as it was ending, they spotted them. A large mass of indistinguishable figures were in a great distance, and both Vash and Wolfwood became aware that those who had ventured into their camp last night were few compared to the mass that was before them now. Vash didn't dare point this out as they continued their journey near them.

Along the trail they passed a large amount of litter. These bandits obviously didn't care about the health of the land, but Vash supposed it was hard to when everything was dirt. The first item they came across was an empty donut box, which Wolfwood took the time to step on in annoyance. Empty canteens, empty lunchboxes, empty soda cans, empty alcohol bottles, empty water jugs, and some sleeping supplies like a blanket and pillow were displayed along the trail of footprints.

Two hours passed and Vash noticed something odd about the people ahead of them.

"Those aren't bandits," he pointed out. "Wolfwood, we've been robbed by thomases!"

"Nonsense! Honestly, Spikey, you're losing your mind in this dry heat. They must be the bandits' thomases, which means that the bandits are probably just behind them a little ways. Now let's hurry." Wolfwood explained, and then kicked up the speed.

Vash looked as if the Priest had just asked him to shoot himself. He was dripping with sweat and dirt, his red coat was melted together, and a sunburn was beginning to settle on his face, how dare Wolfwood ask him to run? Taking a breath, Vash quickened his pace and followed after him.

When they reached the animals, they explored the area, finding a few random items that brought the idea that they weren't the only ones to have their camp raided.

The thomases were the largest Vash and Wolfwood had ever seen, not only in stature, but in weight. The majority were surprisingly fat with oddly shaped curves across their bodies. No trail left the herd to prove that someone- some human had been near by.

"Wolfwood, I really think the thomases came into our camp," Vash finally broke the silence.

"Nonsense!" The Priest waved the idea away with a flick of his hand. The thought was ridiculous, not because it seemed impossible of the animals rummaging through their bags, but the thought that they had come all this way to find no water. Wolfwood had been so positive, and yet here he was wandering around a herd of thomases, thirstier than ever. He thought ill of himself running to get to this destination, which made not only his mouth drier, but his throat scratchy.

"Hey Wolfwood! Hurry up and hop on!"

The Priest turned around to find Vash struggling to tame a wild thomas he had sat himself on. The creature's tongue flailed madly from its mouth and a loud cry escaped it. Wolfwood recognized the noise as the same from last night and disappointment seeped into him. Not only had he led Vash on a stupid quest, but the outlaw seemed to be going delirious.

"Hurry! We'll ride it back the rest of the way and be to fresh water in no time!" Vash insisted.

Another loud cry sounded as the animal tried to shake Vash off and it would have succeeded if the outlaw hadn't suddenly flung his arms around its neck. In return, the thomas let out a screeching noise.

Wolfwood smashed his hands over his ears, and the other thomases let out several cries back, moving restlessly. Then one particularly large thomas erupted and began charging. Vash was oblivious to what was going on, being as the thomas had just knocked him to the ground, but Wolfwood was well aware of what the situation had evolved into. Several more animals were breaking into a run.

Vash, looking a little disappointed, began to brush off the dirt casually.

"Spikey, run!"

Wolfwood broke into a mad dash.

Vash turned around and let out a squeal. The thomases were _stampeding!_ For as fat as the were, they possessed great speed.

"Wolfwood, wait up!" Vash cried, running too now. He could feel the vibrations of their powerful feet on the ground, and his heart trying to escape out through his searing chest.

"Ha! This is great, now I have _two_ stampedes to deal with!" Wolfwood snarled.

"Hey, that's not funny!" Vash frowned.

Just as the last word left his mouth, Wolfwood seemed to have tripped over his own feet and crash landed face first in a pile of-

"Crap! Wolfwood get up, they're gaining on us!" Vash yelled. As he caught up to the Priest he quickly pulled him up. He gave the Priest a disgusted look as the dark brown substance slide thickly down his face.

The Priest ran beside Vash, trying desperately to wipe the dung out of his eyes, nose and even lips, leaving his sleeves smeared with brown. His hands fumbled for his cross when he suddenly remembered the man he was traveling with. He cursed. Vash was the last person he needed a lecture from. Even if they were going to be dead in a few hours, the outlaw would still persist on running from the animals instead of shooting them dead. For a moment Wolfwood considered ignoring the outlaw outright and planting several bullets into the beasts, but then an idea that would hopefully satisfy both of them pierced into his mind.

"Spikey, hand me those food cans," Wolfwood ordered.

"You're going to eat right now? When you have _that_ all over your face?" Vash asked, bewildered.

"No! Just give me the cans! Give me that meat stuff!"

Vash quickly unzipped a bag and searched for the opaque gunk, when he found the stash, he thrust a can into Wolfwood's outstretched hand.

Wolfwood drew back the can and turned to face the oncoming stampede. He threw the mystery meat into the air where its surface caught the sunlight flauntingly, and then gravity directed it at a curve to hit the nearest thomas perfectly in the face. It squealed and toppled sideways.

"Bull's-eye! Spikey, give me another one," Wolfwood said, running normally again.

Vash tossed him another.

Wolfwood caught it and hurled it back to the mass of animals behind them. The can hit another thomas in the mouth, but this time it burst open, exploding clumpy gunk over several others. Some of the canned meat landed in the eyes of several thomases, they were knocked off course, crashing into several others. A few fell to the ground.

"Next," Wolfwood called.

Vash gave him another.

The Priest aimed and hit yet another spectacular blow to the head, knocking the thomas out.

After all the meat had been thrown with precise aim, most all the animals had fell into confusion, and Vash was sure they had forgotten what had caused them to charge in the first place. Wolfwood chucked one can of corn, and the last leader of the group toppled over, leaving the others still standing, looking lost and confused.

The Priest and outlaw ran several more yards, until slowing to a stop and trying to catch a much needed breath. It took nearly ten minutes before either could talk.

"Where did you learn to do that?" Vash asked, wiping sweat out of his eyes.

"I grew up an orphan, Spikey, things can get pretty dull." He answered.

"Wow," Vash blinked.

After a few more minutes of silence, Wolfwood began walking in a designated direction. Vash followed his lead slowly. More hours passed and more precious fluid precipitated from their pores. On a positive note, the air had cooled down to a burning temperature instead of the scorching one. Vash's feet ached and after another hour passed he broke the silence.

"Wolfwood, do you know where we're going?" Vash asked curiously.

"To the town- _Meryl's hometown_- Marington." The Priest grumbled with irritation.

Vash glanced up at the sky; in a few minutes the suns would begin setting. "I thought the city was to the east…Wolfwood, we're traveling _south_."

"That's because it _is_ in the south!"

"I'm pretty sure the map said it was east."

"Spikey, it's south!"

"Oh yeah… I remember," Vash said thoughtfully, "its southeast. Marington is more of the 'L' shape than a square, it's practically both south and east…"

Wolfwood was too tired to argue. He didn't want to waste any spit particles left in his sandpaper mouth. They were going to die out here. He was going to die out here because he had been traveling with Vash the Stampede. True, he would like to say it was his biggest mistake yet, but his life was full of mistakes and this was just one to add to the collection. Even he was a mistake from the very beginning, a result of the corruption of this planet.

Vash stopped abruptly. Wolfwood could see his head turning from the corner of his eye, but the Priest continued walking, afraid that if his feet stopped, they would never start again. Silently he swore he would never speak another word until water was flooding through his body. If Vash wanted to speak to him, he would just have to learn telepathy.

Then he heard the rumbling. Before the sound had even registered, a gigantic vehicle went speeding past him. It was square- boxy like a jeep with shining red paint, and dark tinted windows. His jaw dropped as he stared at the huge rotating tires.

"HHHEEEEEYYYYY!" He yelled hoarsely, and he found a sudden burst of energy in his legs. "Wait! Wait! WAIT!"

Vash was running and yelling too. He almost dropped their bags, but caught them with superb speed.

Wolfwood had been positive the car would speed into the distance because of Vash's uncanny ability to make life difficult, but to his ecstatic surprise, it came to a halt. Both Wolfwood and Vash scrambled to it in a frantic haste.

When they reached the driver's side, they saw their reflection in the tainted window. Wolfwood became aware that he still had some brown substance on the edges of his face, and Vash's face was slightly swollen from the chaotic wrestling he had endured from the Priest. Both of them were sunburned and had peeling dry lips. Truth be told, they were thrilled when their reflection disappeared from view and was replaced with a skeptical expression. The person behind the wheel was young- a teenager with dirty blond hair and blue eyes. He raised an eyebrow at them.

"Press the gas pedal," a voice from the passenger's side suggested in a joyous voice.

Wolfwood became aware the vehicle was full of teenager boys and by the smug expression they held, they looked like trouble.

"Yeah! Do it!" Another laughed from the back. "Pedal to the metal!"

"Now hold on boys," the driver said. "These poor men need our help; they've been wandering in this heat aimlessly. And look" –he pointed to Wolfwood- "we can't go play games like that to a preacher. Our souls would be sold to the devil if we went speeding off into the distance."

"You've got that right," Wolfwood spoke. "But…" He put on his false happy face Vash had seen several times before. "If you save us now, I'll be sure to grant you eternal life in paradise and I'll even let you have a go with my portable confessional!"

"Grant eternal life? Can you do that?" Vash asked curiously.

"Shut up, Spikey, we're desperate," Wolfwood mumbled from the corner of his mouth, and gave a friendly kick in the shin to the outlaw.

The teenager looked at them with his skeptical expression again.

Wolfwood leaned over the window, staring the boy in the eyes. "So what do you say? Heaven's a pretty nice place." He said through clenched teeth.

"What else have yuh got?"

Wolfwood's eyebrow twitched. "What else do you need?"

Several silent seconds passed.

"I'll let yuh in for $$150."

"$$150!" Wolfwood exploded.

"Each," the teenager added.

"_EACH?_"

"Yup."

Wolfwood's shaking hand fumbled for his pocket out of habit. Biting his lips to contain the foul words running through his head, he let his finger poke idly through the hole. He hadn't had a cigarette for well over 24 hours- his head ached, and his limbs were quivering. He didn't know how far the city was, he didn't know where cigarettes were sold, and he didn't know if he would ever find any water out here in the middle of nowhere. They were going to die out here and this little punk wanted to charge him $$150?

"You are going to let us in there," Wolfwood said fiercely. "You will. It might take some bribing, but you know what? I can play this game too! See this cross? If it fits another inch of mercy it's going to explode! I might just have to make some room for you." Wolfwood was moving to unbuckle the cross and was more than ready to relieve some bullets. Just as his finger reached the strap, Vash pushed passed him and slammed $$300 on the dashboard.

"For both of us." He explained.

The teenager looked surprised, but a rapacious grin spread over his face.

"You might want to put him in the trunk," Vash whispered. "He's a cigarette addict- hasn't had one in over a day."

"A smoker, huh? Hey, how about you hop back there with him?" The teenager asked. "I don't have room up here with all of my buddies."

Within ten minutes, they vehicle was moving again. Cramped with luggage and Wolfwood's cross, Vash's legs were forced to contort into awkward positions. The only way they could both fit in with all the luggage was if every inch of their body was either being poked or punctured with objects- which made it very harmful when they began hitting bumps fluently.

"We must be getting closer." Vash said. "We're out of the flat land. Hey, you guys, how close are we?" Vash called.

"About 30 minutes." A teenager called back in a hoarse voice.

Vash tried to let out a sigh, but gave up trying because whenever his lungs reached a certain point, the corner of the cross seemed to cut off his breathing.

"Spikey… you realize that means we would be riding for an hour and a half…"

"Yeah, my legs are going to turn blue from no circulation." Vash answered.

"No Spikey! I mean, we could have walked that distance! We have to go so slow over these hills, it would probably only be a few hours difference! You spent all that money for just an hour and a half." Wolfwood explained.

"Oh…" Vash sounded disappointed. "At least we don't have to walk… and I don't know if we could make it that long without water. _And_ in just less than an hour we can see Millie and Meryl."

"Thank goodness. I need to give Millie a good _hello_."

"I hope you don't intend to kiss her," Vash said with disgust.

"Why? Maybe you could catch some tips…" Wolfwood smirked.

"…not after what's been in your mouth and on your face…"

Wolfwood's eye twitched. "Good point. And speaking of kissing, Spikey, you better get going on that promise, because I gave you not only a ride on my motorcycle, but her whole life!"

Vash had grown suddenly quiet.

"The reunion is tomorrow night, that gives you about 24 hours- but like I said before, it should be no big deal, just a package of jello. I mean… since you've already been _grocery shopping _with her." Wolfwood pressed.

"Yeah… just jello…" Vash squeaked. But his stomach twisted uncomfortably at the thought. He had never told Meryl anything about his thoughts of her. How would it be if he just kissed her in 24 hours? They were supposed to be married at the reunion, maybe he could slip one then. Vash couldn't stand to imagine the after look she would give him. No, there had to be a way around it… a flaw in the Priest's words. Somehow he would have to make Wolfwood believe he had kissed her when he hadn't… but how?

His mind drifted over useless ideas and he began to wonder how the insurance girls were doing. He was sure their ride on the Sandsteamer didn't contain explosions and destructive thomases, let alone a mad Priest. Soon enough he would ask them… and maybe slip some of himself to Meryl if he got brave enough.


	9. Upon Entering

Author's Note: This chapter is a bit of a denoument of the adventure across the desert and helps get ready for experiences to come. As always thank you for reading and thanks to those of you who have reviewed and will review.

"Spiky, do you hear that?" Wolfwood asked.

"Yeah, it sounds like the vertebras in my spine are crushing together." Vash frowned.

"I think we've made it! Spikey, I think we're in Marington! Listen!"

Concentrating, Vash searched for the outside noise as the vehicle came to a screeching halt followed by an obnoxious note of the horn. Both the Priest and outlaw let out sickening noises as the cross punched into different parts of their bodies, giving them little mercy.

"Hey!" Their driver yelled. "I told you I didn't want my windshield washed! Get the heck out of the street! I'm not paying you a dime!"

"I was wrong Wolfwood- that loud cracking noise you just heard, I think _that_ was my spine."

"Sh!" Wolfwood ordered, readjusting himself.

They listened intently. Vash was so caught in the moment that he jumped when the driver yelled again.

"Want me to run you over? Move!"

Then all at once the vehicle jolted forward. Vash was relieved to hear no desperate yelling or feel no body under the wheels. These teenagers were trouble makers, but he didn't think they would actually have the nerve to run someone over, especially a homeless person trying to make some money.

One of the teenagers' voice crept towards the trunk of the car in a rebellious tone. His words brought both Vash and Wolfwood a slight sense of relief, but his pitch made them uncomfortable, like a tack embedded in a fluffy donut.

" 'Ey, smokers, where abouts do you want to get off?"

"Are we in Marington?" Vash asked.

"Well, duh! It's about the only city around these parts."

Before one syllable had even left Vash's lips, Wolfwood answered desperately.

"The next store you come across- wherever they sell tobacco products!"

"The smoker wants tobacco!" The teenager reported to the others. None of them took the courtesy of silencing their snickers. "They want to be dropped off at the closest store."

Only several seconds passed before the driver slammed on the breaks again. This time Vash and Wolfwood quickly wiggled out of the way before the cross jammed back into their aching flesh. They heard a teenager curse loudly.

"Idiot! Can't you see my windshield is _clean_? Get the heck out of my way! I'm not paying for that!"

"Hey, Jones, just pop the back open- there's Judd's across the street. There are cigarettes over there." One of the other teenagers spoke.

Without much more for a warning, the back of the vehicle suddenly burst open. All at once Vash, Wolfwood, and their luggage tumbled out onto the street. Dust puffed up in the air, making Vash cough. And a loud honk welcomed them to reality. Vash looked up to see a driver looking agitated with their choice of departure. They had landed in the middle of a busy street in front of a sleek sporty car. The driver honked again. And then a squat man, who was balding, began to wipe down the man's windshield as if the honk had been a signal for him to hurry up. In reply, the driver glared angrily at the squat man, who pretended to be oblivious to it.

Vash and Wolfwood gingerly got up, picked up what was left of their luggage and stiffly walked off the street, where vehicles were beginning to pile up.

The first feature Vash noticed the city possessed was life. Even after darkness had settled over Marington, people were still rushing around stores- in and out of buildings. Teenagers were gathered around corners, couples were holding hands on a stroll, and tired mothers were darting in and out of stores to pick up items they may not find time to get tomorrow. Lights pushed their way outside buildings, fighting for citizens' eyes. Vash could hear music extending out open doors of a building across the street, and laughter drifting from a bar.

They couldn't have looked more out of place- tired, dirty, burned clothing, and arms full of luggage. Wolfwood looked completely secluded from the surrounding world; his bloodshot eyes rested on a small store that had burning red letters displaying _Judd's_.

"I don't think I can make it, Spikey… it's so far away." He said hoarsely.

The petite building was half a block from them, but Vash understood his words too perfectly. He was aching all over and dehydrated.

"We have to. Come on Wolfwood." Vash took a small step.

"We're going to get there and he'll close the doors on our faces and then we'll die. I know how your luck works."

For the first time, Vash realized the Priest was shaking horribly. His shoulders quivered, but down towards the ends of his arms, where his hands gripped his dark green bag, he tembled violently. Vash knew Wolfwood's head was aching in addition to his quaking body, he was suffering from withdrawal.

"Come on Wolfwood." Vash said again.

After roughly taking a deep breath, the Priest feebly followed behind the outlaw, one step at a time.

_Let it be open. Let it be open._ Wolfwood prayed. If they got there and the store closed, he didn't think he could handle it. _And_ (he glanced at Vash) he would probably attempt murder if he had the strength.

Finally they reach the small square store. Wolfwood cringed as Vash reached for the door, but felt relief sweep over him when it opened. They had been saved.

Inside the store, Vash found a variety of miscellaneous items. Several pocket watches were enclosed in a plastic case, a jug of milk and a carton of juice occupied a cold shelf, cat food was in the corner, and toiletries were on a rack in the middle of the floor. In addition to these objects, Vash spotted bottles of water against the wall parallel to him. Immediately he made his way to the succulent fluid, where he dropped half their luggage. Before thinking of anything else, he popped the cap off of a large one, and began guzzling the substance in ecstasy. The water wasn't particularly cool, just a degree or two less than room temperature, making it easy to chug. His tongue immediately absorbed the fluid, and his dry cracking throat felt rejuvenated when it splashed through it into his stomach. He drained the entire bottle and grasped another. Popping off the cap he made a jubilant statement about feeling alive again, and then proceeded to let more water into his mouth.

Meanwhile, the Priest slapped his dry cracking hands on the counter, where a skinny old man stood behind. Excess skin was dangling from his arms and cheeks, his eyes were hazy, and when he asked what Wolfwood was he was looking for, his yellowing-brown teeth blared magnificently.

"Tobacco, nicotine- whatever they put in those things these days. Please, I need a cigarette, old man."

"What brand?" The old man asked hoarsely.

"Any brand."

"This one is my favorite," the old man shared, placing a pack on the counter.

"Fine. I'll buy it."

"$$30."

"How much?" Wolfwood asked, pulling out his wallet which was full of dust.

"$$30." The old man answered again.

"_$$30?_" Wolfwood bellowed in his scratchy voice. "I just want one pack."

"It's $$30."

Wolfwood's eyebrow twitched. His head felt like it would cave in, and this man was taking advantage of him. Irritated, the Priest searched through his wallet, which took a while because of his shaking hands. He was five double dollars short. Slowly he looked to the outlaw. Several empty bottles were near his feet, and he looked like he was quite enjoying himself, the idiot.

"Hey! Needle Noggin." Wolfwood growled.

"Yeah!" Vash answered gleefully, taking no time to wipe his mouth of excess water.

"Get over here- I need to borrow $$5."

Humming a joyful tune, Vash picked up the few empty bottles, grabbed another one off the shelf, and bounced over to the cash register. Without a word he gave the money to the Priest, who purchased the pack eagerly.

After removing a cigarette, Wolfwood pocketed the rest in his other pocket as Vash let the empty bottles clatter onto the counter. Each one let out a hallow-ringing noise as it engaged with the hard surfaced counter.

"$$280." The old man answered.

Vash's smile disappeared from his face, but he remained silent as he handed the man the money. His happiness seemed to have departed as fast as it had come.

Once both Vash and Wolfwood were back outside, the Priest lit his cigarette and inhaled the smoke.

"Ah," he sighed. "That feels better…"

"That's $$40 per bottle…" Vash said thoughtfully. "I wonder why it's so expensive."

"Spikey, that man was ripping us off. I can't believe you let him take advantage of you so easily." The Priest answered and began walking again, in no particular direction. Vash followed him.

"I was dehydrated, Wolfwood, I had already drank most of it- there wasn't much more for me to do. Anyway… where are we meeting the girls? They never told me exactly where they were staying."

"Both Millie and Meryl are staying at Meryl's family's house," Wolfwood answered. "But Millie told me that Meryl suggests we stay at a hotel called _Novinian_. And I told Millie to tell Meryl that we would. So I suggest we find one or the other." Wolfwood informed the outlaw.

"Where was I during all of this?" Vash inquired, feeling slightly irritated that Wolfwood knew so much about the city that he wasn't invited to.

"_Buying your Sandsteamer tickets_." Wolfwood scoffed.

"Alright, so do you have a map?"

"Even if I had brought one, I hardly doubt it would have survived through that desert." Wolfwood answered. They had been walking for several minutes, and the Priest had finished the cigarette, tossing its remains to the ground. Vash watched it tumble into the street before speaking.

"I wish you wouldn't do that." He spoke.

"Do what? I didn't want to keep it, and I can't see a trash can anywhere. There's plenty litter here, I don't think one little cigarette butt makes much difference." Wolfwood answered with an agitated tone. Vash was always being the saint, which made Wolfwood, the Priest, look terrible. He could hardly stand to listen to the outlaw because he often felt like he was secretly passing judgment on him. Wolfwood had thought he was doing pretty well considering he had founded an orphanage, but once Vash had entered the picture, he had felt increasingly ill of himself.

"No, not that," Vash spoke. "I meant smoking. That stuff kills you, you know." He sounded calm and sincere, but Wolfwood didn't seem to hear the emotion in his words.

"And who are you to talk? Waving a gun around like a maniac! Blowing up cities! Even attacking your brother." He growled.

"What?" Vash asked, feeling uncomfortable with the Priest's last words. He tried to detect some hidden message behind them. He shrugged it off- the Priest was always coming up with new phrases.

"You stay out of my personal business, and I'll stay out of yours," Wolfwood answered to Vash's surprised expression.

"That old man at the store, he used to be young too. He ran around and had hopes and dreams, but now he's confined, constricted in his abilities, and you must admit, he looks terrible, even at his age." Vash acknowledged.

"That's enough. You shouldn't make stuff up about other people. Maybe that man never had any dreams." Wolfwood suggested simply, but Vash thought he could hear an icy undertone in his voice. "I'm too tired, Needle Noggin, and we're almost there."

Vash was about to ask where _there_ was until he spotted a gigantic building that had the word _Novinian_ embellished above the entrance. A couple was walking inside- the man held the door open for the lady, who was taking small steps in her tall black heals.

Whatever hotel they stayed in last time, Vash was sure this one would make up for it. The outside looked elegant, and he had a feeling the inside wouldn't disappoint him. As they reached the glass front door, the sight caught him by surprise. The front desk was neat and clean with a granite top and a rack of keys. The walls were painted a rich teal and had luxurious lamps placed in front. But what caught Vash off guard were not the beauties of the room, but the two women talking to the person behind the counter.

"You're sure they haven't checked in yet? Haven't received any messages about them? Or even heard anyone talk about them?" Meryl was asking tensely when they entered. She sounded like she was losing patience, and Vash felt tempted to walk back out of the building. He and Wolfwood were supposed to be here a long time ago, and they had probably stressed both of the girls with their absence. He wondered how close Meryl was to snapping and if she would send him on a huge lecture.

"No, ma'am, neither of those men have entered this room." The man told her. He was clean cut and wearing a white buttoned down shirt. Vash could tell he was also agitated, and thought he was doing a very good job at trying to hide it. His green eyes sparked, but the rest of his appearance was calm.

"Well, if you see them-"

"I know- I'll have a message sent to you."

"Thank you," Meryl sighed and turned to leave with Millie at her side. "Millie, I just don't know what I'm going to do. Should we go look for them? In all this reunion business, I've completely lost control of my job. I'm supposed to be with Vash. _I'm_ supposed to keep him out of trouble."

Someone was trying to get inside the building, and Vash moved out of the way. He and Wolfwood had been standing silently in the entrance, and only now had he realized a small line had developed behind him.

"Excuse me," Vash said kindly, stepping aside.

Like everyone else at the moment, the man didn't look too pleased. Vash tried to give him a small smile, but before it was fully formed, some force nearly knocked him to the ground. After catching his balance he looked down to see a bunch of violet hair. At once he realized arms were wrapped around his middle, and two seconds later his brain registered that Meryl was hugging him. He could feel her body moving up and down with each breath, and feel her inhalation on his skin. Stunned, he let the luggage handles slip through his fingers, and the luggage plopped down at his sides. Behind Meryl, Vash saw Wolfwood give him the thumbs up sign next to Millie.

He wondered if he was blushing.

Now Wolfwood was mouthing something about gelatin, but Vash continued to look dumbfounded in hopes that the Priest would think he hadn't understood.

Meryl's arms loosened and left him. She caught his eye and a small ruddy patch developed on her cheeks. Looking away she broke the silence. Behind her Wolfwood was continuing to mouth, spending excess time on each syllable.

"What happened? You look awful." Meryl frowned. The outlaw was caked in dirt, his hair looked out of control, his skin was sunburned, his lips were cracking, and he looked several pounds lighter. Judging by him and the Priest, it looked like a fire had tried to scorch them alive followed by a mad truck running them over. They had scabs, cuts, bruises, and were swelling. She felt pained to even look at them.

Vash could see that dust and a few other particles had clung onto Meryl's clothes from her hug. Even a smudge was on her left cheek. Now he watched Millie grab an agitated Priest's hand and pull him over to himself and Meryl.

"Yeah, Mr. Vash, you should have seen Ms. Meryl. She was so worried about you; I don't think she's gotten any sleep." Millie shared.

Vash turned to Meryl to find reinforcement of Millie's statement, but the short insurance girl seemed to have found the tile of the building very interesting.

"Yeah, well, Spikey got us into a lot of trouble this time," Wolfwood sighed. "Almost cost me my life."

"Well, I suppose I can't pretend to be surprised." Meryl looked up again. "What did he do?"

"I'll tell you what he did, for starters he blew up my bike!" Wolfwood exclaimed.

For a moment Vash considered arguing, but the desire quickly melted away, and he stood silently as the Priest animatedly reported the incidents across the desert. Vash felt that many of the experiences had been twisted and exaggerated, especially when the Priest described the last breath of the motorcycle, in which it apparently asked for a proper burial. And Wolfwood was unable to give it one after Vash had thrown a jug full of gasoline on it in resentment.

"And then the punks wanted to charge us $$300." Wolfwood finished with distaste. "So we got a ride back here cramped in the back!"

"Sounds like Marington High Schoolers." Meryl answered. "There's a spot out there where a lot of them like to race their cars- show off what's new on them."

Wolfwood's mouth dropped, leaving his face with a vacant expression in Meryl's direction.

"Enough students can afford cars to take them out and race them?" Vash asked, surprised. Most people on Gunsmoke traveled by foot, only wealthy businesses seemed to be able to afford a car.

"Most of them can't, but a lot of parents buy them a car, or let them use theirs." Meryl answered, and then attached a half smile at the look on their faces. Vash's eyes had widened slightly, but Wolfwood looked utterly appalled.

"What idiot would give a car to a teenager?" He asked. "Those things are out of control! They'll never learn how to work for a living." Bitterness snuck into the Priest's words. He sounded partially jealous. After all, he had worked hard to earn his motorcycle. Vash could only imagine how he felt knowing that kids here sometimes got their own with no more than a _thank you_.

"Tell them about the thomases, Ms. Meryl." Millie inclined.

Wolfwood stared fixedly back at the short insurance girl, daring her to make his day anymore worse. He had chased after wild thomases, who chased after him, landed in a face full of dung, wandered aimlessly without water, rode in the back of a vehicle- cramped, had found out teenagers were often seen inside cars, and he had been through most of this without a cigarette. He clenched his teeth. Yes, Meryl, tell him about the thomases, _please_.

Meryl took one glance at the devilish glare on Wolfwood's face and immediately turned to Vash, who looked a lot friendlier at the moment.

"We've heard about the herd of thomases. I read it in the newspaper. They immigrated here several months ago, and because of all the food left behind by all those teenagers, they've resorted to finding food inside bags. I guess there have been a lot of problems with them making a mess of people's items." Meryl explained.

"So I guess it's a good thing." Millie inserted. "People almost thought bandits were out there in that desert."

Wolfwood's eyebrow twitched, and his teeth tightened. He reached for another cigarette, thankful to find a pack in his hole-less pocket. Vash, Millie, and Meryl watched him light one and deeply inhale the smoke. He closed his eyes, trying to regain himself as the orange glow began eating away the substance at a slow pace.

"So," he finally spoke, his eyes much more serene than before. "How about you girls? How was the Sandsteamer?"

"Oh, it was great, Mr. Priest!" Millie clasped her hands together with excess energy. "The conductor was very good, he said we made it here in half the amount of time it normally takes. We didn't encounter any sand storms, and I taught Ms. Meryl private chess lessons!" Millie's sky blue eyes sparkled.

"Did she beat you?" Wolfwood asked.

"No, but she got really close." Millie smiled.

"That's fun," Wolfwood said casually. "So do we need to get some rooms?" He asked.

"Oh yes, that man behind the counter will help you out," Millie smiled. "His name is Stephen, and Ms. Meryl and I have gotten to know him very well. He seems like a pretty nice man, one time he even asked if we wanted to eat his lunch, although I don't think he really meant it because he kind of said it under his breath. I wouldn't have taken it though, even if I was hungry."

"Good," Wolfwood answered, letting out a small chuckle of relief.

"But you and Mr. Vash must be tired, and you probably want to get cleaned up" Millie said.

"And we need to hurry and file another report," Meryl told Millie.

"Oh yeah…" Millie's stature seemed to shrink a modicum. "But I'll see you tomorrow, Mr. Priest. I think Mr. Vash and Ms. Meryl will be quite busy with the reunion."

"And so will we, I mean, busy, you know." Wolfwood added. He felt dirty looks rest on his face from Vash and Meryl. He resisted the temptation to laugh, he was dancing circles around their heads, and both were clueless.

Millie gave the Priest a big hug, while Vash and Meryl redirected their eyes uncomfortably. Meryl turned her thoughts to the next morning in the silence and introduced a quick new topic.

"I'll come over tomorrow," Meryl told Vash. "To give you a few more odds and ends before the reunion."

"Sounds good." Vash agreed, shifting slightly as he caught the other two out of the corner of his eye.

Wolfwood and Millie broke apart. Meryl grabbed Millie's attention.

"Come on, Millie."

"Yes, ma'am." She answered and they began to depart, Meryl as a brisk pace.

"Goodbye Mr. Vash and Mr. Wolfwood!" Millie called.

"See you tomorrow, _Hun_!" Wolfwood called back.

Meryl's face was occupied by another irritated look which she took no liberty of hiding from the Priest. In return, Wolfwood showed no signs of noticing, but when he turned away from them, Vash thought he could see a shadow of a smile under his skin.

Once both Insurance Girls were out of view, Wolfwood turned to the outlaw.

"You completely missed the moment!" He bellowed. "Why didn't you kiss her? Did you forget about _our deal_!"

"No. But I wasn't going to do it right then," Vash answered, feeling himself go red. He grew suddenly thankful of his already sunburned face.

"Why not? It was perfect! Gr! Needle Noggin! She hugged you- the moment was perfect!"

"Last I checked there was a big difference between a hug and a kiss," he answered, his cheeks burning. "Just because she hugged me doesn't mean-"

"Bologna!" Wolfwood spat. "Spikey, you didn't kiss her because you were afraid!"

"I wasn't afraid!" Vash insisted.

Wolfwood shook his head in disbelief. "Vash, you are terrible at lying. You should have seen yourself, stunned to silence after that little hug she gave you. It's clear to me that you two never did any of the _grocery shopping. _ Now you're going to have to kiss her sometime tomorrow, and believe me, you will if it's the last thing I do!"

Offended, Vash opened his mouth to argue, but the Priest interrupted him.

"No, I don't want to hear any excuses- a smoking room please," he told the man called Stephen, who was looking tired now behind the granite counter. He retrieved a key from the little rack, and handed it to Wolfwood. "- And don't you think you can wiggle out of this one, Spikey, because I'll be keeping an eye on you!"

And with that, the Priest marched away with his cross and his dark green bag, never taking the time to hear Vash's words.

Feeling more bitter with the Priest than he had during their entire trip, Vash vaguely remembered acquiring his room key, but somehow he had reached the staircase when he began to think of ways to possibly get back at the Priest. Who was he to dictate his life? He didn't even know him. Like a stray cat, he popped into Vash's life spontaneously.

Once again he pictured himself kissing Meryl, and it wouldn't have been so bad if it wasn't for the awful expressions he imagined on her face afterwards. But she _did_ hug him, he remembered and at once a sense of self esteem seemed to rush through him. She had never hugged him before. The memory grew vivid in his mind. Maybe she did like him… or maybe they were just close friends. He was her job after all, just like she had said to Millie, she was stuck with him. Would it even be legal for her to like him under those circumstances?

But _still, _it had been her choice to give him a hug.

Vash suddenly caught his thoughts. He grew annoyed with himself, what was he doing? He was a hopeless case… Wolfwood was right, all this over a little hug. If he was worked up about that, how in the world was he supposed to give her a kiss? The reunion was in less than 24 hours… and somehow he had to solve this dilemma by either kissing her or deceiving the Priest. Yet he could think of nothing that would trick Wolfwood into believing him. He knew there had to be something so simple that he hadn't thought of it. Something that would satisfy everyone…but what was it?


	10. Odds and Ends

Summoned awake by a knock on the door, Vash slowly opened his eyes. It took him a moment to remember where he was and felt relieved he had finally slept in a bed. The sheets were soft and a fluffy blanket filled with down feathers helped keep his skin warm from the lightly chilled air. His once aching neck finally found the support it needed when his head was rested comfortably on a gentle pillow instead of awkwardly on the floor.

He felt cleaner than he had in days having taken a nice long shower the night before.

The knock sounded again, and he sat up drowsily. Then it dawned on him. The reunion was today! And that was Meryl at the door! At once he rolled out of bed like a jolt of electricity had just surged through him. Dashing around the hotel room, he undressed and quickly looked through his luggage. He knew a lot of his clothing had been left behind in the desert, but he had to find _something_. He didn't want to put on his dirty red coat when he felt so squeaky clean! Diligently he searched.

_Aha_, he thought and pulled out a bland shirt and some khakis. In his rush he put the wrong leg in his pants and had to slip it out again. How awkward it would be to answer the door with his pants on backwards…

Pulling his shirt on, he kicked his pajamas under the bed.

Another knock sounded.

Vash quickly twisted the cold door knob and opened the door. A blinding light pierced into his eyes. He squinted, trying to see the individual as his eyes adjusted. He hadn't realized he had slept so long. Bright sunlight was beating in through the windows and down the hall.

"Room service." The person told him.

Still the woman looked like a smudge to his burning eyes.

"No thanks," Vash answered, blinking vigorously.

"Need anything?" She asked.

Finally the woman came into focus. She had dark curly hair and was seeing the latter end of her life. Next to her was a cart full of towels and cleaning supplies.

"No, I'm fine thank you." Vash answered.

"If you need anything, just see the front desk," she told him. Evidently she had said the phrase often, all the fake kindness had been squeezed out of it.

"Alright," he answered, but she was already moving on to the next room.

Suddenly Vash spotted Meryl turn down the hall. He quickly shut his door and rushed into the bathroom, which was large and very luxurious. The bathroom boasted a shower and a bath tub, two sinks, a large mirror and even had those little hotel soaps that Vash had quite enjoyed the night before. And in addition to these features, a built in electric razor and hair blow dryer was fit neatly in the corner.

Vash gazed into his reflection. His hair was catastrophic, but it often was when he went to sleep with it damp. Because he had been so exhausted he had only dried his hair enough to get him by without catching a cold, making it swoop, kink, and fray in odd patterns. And unlike most people, he had two crowns in the back of his head which naturally made a large portion of his hair stick up from his scalp.

He reached for the bottle of hair gel (that had been provided by the hotel and had the name _Novinian_ embellished on the cap in navy blue lettering) and squirted a large amount into his hands. He rubbed his palms together, warming up the gooey substance with his movements. Lightning speed, he brushed his fingers through his golden hair, wiping his palms along each strand. Already his hair was looking better, but he still needed more gel. After repeated squirting and fingering, his hair was standing on end, making him feel a little better about his appearance.

Then he frowned. His sunburn was awful and it had left pale circles around his eyes because of his sunglasses. That road trip had been horrible to him.

_Knock. Knock. Knock._

That was Meryl.

Vash rushed to the door and pulled it open. The small insurance girl was carrying various bottles and supplies, one, Vash noticed, was pomade. In a very conscientious and business like manner, she helped herself inside his room.

"Good morning," Vash said cautiously, unaware of Meryl's mood today. He considered the fact that she might be rather stressed with the reunion today- he was.

Her lavender eyes ran across his face and then his figure.

She didn't _look_ like she was in a bad mood, Vash noted. Remembering last night, he shifted awkwardly.

"You aren't planning to go to the reunion like that, are you?" Meryl asked skeptically.

Unfortunately, the answer was _yes_. All other forms of clothing had been buried in the middle of the desert, save for his pajamas and melted red coat, and personally, he didn't see anything severely wrong with the outfit. His pants didn't have any holes, and his shirt was clean.

Meryl unloaded the supplies on top of the mattress, which looked like it had been through a war zone with its tangled sheets. She held onto, however, a black plastic bag. She hesitated, squeezing and twisting the handle in her palms.

The outlaw was still trying to decide on an undefined answer, when Meryl plucked up her courage and turned back to him, bag opened wide. Curious, Vash slowly submerged his hand. The contents felt soft as he grasped the fabric. Introducing it to the air, he realized with surprise that the small insurance girl had bought him a shirt. Clearly, she had picked it due to the fresh aqua stripes which complimented Vash's eyes perfectly.

"I think it's the right size… but if it isn't I'll need to take it back in the next few hours." She explained.

With stealth, Vash casually fingered the fabric, looking for a price tag. After going over its surface he concluded that Meryl had already removed it.

"You took off the price tag," Vash said, "how will I know how much to pay you back?"

"It's a gift, broomhead."

Vash itched to smile, but forced his face to remain still. What was going on? First she hugged him last night and now she was buying him gifts…?

"Thank you." He said sincerely.

_Maybe I should kiss her now,_ he thought. He blushed at the idea, but it was well hidden behind his sunburn. He fingered the shirt in anxiety.

"Now let's do something about your hair." Meryl said, changing the tone.

Vash's eyes darted from the shirt to her face. "What's wrong with my hair?"

"Nothing if you want to look like a broom, come on." She grabbed several bottles piled on the bed and entered the bathroom.

Slightly disappointed, Vash followed. What in the world would she do with his hair? He personally liked it just the way it was, broom-like or not, and he couldn't do much else with it at this length.

The light in the bathroom was bright white, giving anyone who walked into it the opportunity to explore every flaw of their body. As he entered, Vash suddenly felt self conscious in the presence of Meryl.

The small insurance girl found a simple backless chair in the corner. Unlike the chairs at their last hotel, this one was whole and stable with a nice bit of cushion. She plopped it down in front of the mirror and directed the outlaw to it.

Vash sat down, staring at his reflection again. The tube of gel supplied by the hotel was still on the counter and he wondered why he had even bothered using it for his hair. Meryl looked determined as she studied his reflection in the mirror, maybe with her female touch, a new hairstyle would be conceived upon his scalp, and maybe she would have better luck with it than he. Rubbing pomade on her hands, she set off to work. Her fingers brushed though Vash's blonde hair thoroughly. Once in a while they would get caught, but gently worked their way through with a few minor tugs on his scalp. As she continued, slowly Vash's thoughts drifted away. He could smell Meryl's perfume, a delicious fresh feminine smell. Was it possible the Priest was right and that she did like him?

"That's odd," Meryl said out loud. For a moment Vash had an eerie feeling that somehow Meryl had read his mind, but then the small insurance girl added, "Vash, you have two crowns."

The outlaw sighed. "Yeah, it's horrible- always hard to work with. My hair sticks up a little even when I don't do it."

"I've never seen someone with two crowns," Meryl said with a small smile. She reached over him to the counter, her body just centimeters away from rubbing him. Vash looked away, embarrassed of his thoughts. She must have missed him. Never could he remember her being so kind, giving, and close.

Meryl grabbed the container of pomade. "Don't worry," she told him, "I can fix that."

His thoughts had already wandered so far that he was about to ask what when he felt a huge cold glob land on the back of his head between his crowns. Immediately it began to drip down his scalp like honey. He shivered.

Meryl went back to work, warming the substance with her hands and distributing it evenly in the back. Her hands worked quickly and after a few minutes she was looking frustrated in the mirror.

Then she began styling with his hair gel where Vash's hair had already dried in big clumps. If she kept this up much longer, he would be going to the reunion with dreadlocks. When they reached a hair style that looked like Vash was sporting three Mohawks, the outlaw let out a laugh.

"It's difficult, isn't it, Meryl?" He asked,

Meryl only glared before her reflection disappeared out of the mirror.

"If I grow it out longer it stays down," Vash explained. "Otherwise it's sticking up."

Vash heard the bathtub facet running with water. Meryl was filling something up.

His fingers skimmed the surface of his hair, the pomade had left it rock solid and shiny. It felt disgusting.

Then before he knew it, a waterfall was relieving itself over the top of his head. He couldn't see anything and some ventured into his mouth. He felt the cold substance rush down his chest, back, and shoulders, soaking his shirt. The water was dripping off his hair onto the tile floor. He spit what had entered his mouth and then pushed back the wet hair covering his eyes. He had to admit, the coolness was refreshing on his sunburn, but still, the whole event was uncalled for. Why in the world did the small insurance girl pour a container full of water over his head without any sort of warning?

"Spike it," Meryl demanded in a bitter tone. She was holding a small empty bucket the hotel supplied in case its customers wanted to get ice from the ice machine.

Vash wiped more water from his face.

"Hey, that wasn't very nice!" He frowned.

"Spike it!" She said again.

Vash thought of accusing her further for her rash tactics, but when he glimpsed her impatient expression in the mirror, he decided not to push her. He didn't want to have to go to the reunion pretending to be married on a bad note.

Meryl stared at him, irritated with his wild hair. Her free hand was placed on her right hip while she sat into her left. Vash's broomhead hair couldn't be any less like a doctor; unfortunately she would have to endure possible comments and snickering on the matter.

Wet, the blond looked stunned and indecisive. Slowly the incident seemed to reach his brain, and without further words, he reached for a navy blue towel. He threw it over his head and rubbed vigorously, letting the cloth absorb a mix of water and pomade. Then he dropped the towel on the tile to absorb the small puddle underneath him. He reached for the built in hair blow dryer. Drying his hair efficiently, he grabbed a small navy blue comb (supplied by the hotel). As he continued his procedure, Meryl grew steadily more interested in his style. His movements were everything between sad and humorous, they were succinct and diligent. She was sure he could do his hair with his eyes closed, but he never would because he was a gunman. Each movement he made caused him to appear more like an outlaw and less like a mundane human being. He stroked the comb through his hair with both precision and speed. He squeezed a perfect portion of hair gel in one grasp. He rubbed his palms together with intensity. And he distributed the substance up through his hair in habitual patterns. Meryl could not help but be soberly amused with his tactics as the outlaw finished the last few touches. He pulled out a few strands of hair in the front and slammed the comb on the counter as if calling out _time!_

He looked in the mirror for his overall appearance. _Yup_, he decided,_ same style for over a century_. Then his eyes moved up to Meryl's in the mirror for approval. She was standing behind him, and to his relief, most signs of irritation had disintegrated. In fact, she looked a little impressed, Vash thought smugly.

"I'm done." He announced.

"Good, now we can take care of that terrible sunburn." She said and disappeared out of the bathroom.

Was there a way to cure sunburns? Vash wondered, staring at his terrible raccoon eyes.

Meryl returned with a small bag. After putting it down on the counter next to the navy blue comb, she unzipped it, revealing its contents.

Vash blinked as she pulled out a tube of some sort of skin-colored substance. He glance back into the bag…lipstick…mascara…and other foreign objects.

"Wait…" Vash started as Meryl took the lid off of the substance. "Meryl, your not putting make-up on me, are you?"

The $$60 billion outlaw sounded nervous, but Meryl ignored the irony and began to rub the thick lotion-like paint on his face. To Vash's surprise the chill gooey liquid soothed his aching skin, but wearing make-up was taking life a little too far.

"I appreciate your concern…but I don't think this is necessary," he said cautiously.

"You look awful," Meryl said brusquely.

"For some reason I have a feeling that people are going to be a little more disturbed when they see a doctor wearing make-up." Vash pointed out.

"No one will notice, I promise. See for yourself." She stood back, giving the outlaw a clear view of his reflection. The effect was enthralling. He still sported a sunburn, but he no longer looked like he was wearing invisible glasses, instead the skin slowly faded into a paler pigment. He could feel the extra coat on his skin, but was unable to detect where it started and ended visually.

"Do most doctors wear make-up?" He asked.

"You're wearing it whether or not you like it," Meryl growled. "And don't try to wipe it off or you'll just make it worse," she added seeing his strategizing eyes.

The outlaw frowned as she retreated to his other side. Stepping on the wet towel, she began to apply more foundation. Vash could smell her perfume again as her soft fingertips skimmed across his cheek. Maybe the Priest was right, he thought again, maybe she _did_ like him. They were so close that if he _accidentally_ slipped he could have easily told the Priest they had had jello for breakfast. _Or_, he told himself, _she's just trying to cover up my sunburn and being a female, she is much more talented in that area of life. _Anyway, she had finished now and the moment to accidentally slip had passed.

"There," Meryl sighed. "That looks a lot better, whether or not doctors wear make-up."

"Anything else?" Vash asked. "Am I presentable yet?"

Meryl could tell Vash was starting to grow restless, either that or he was still resenting the idea of wearing foundation.

"I just need you to try on that shirt. If I have to exchange it, I need it before I go."

Vash's eyes turned to the black plastic bag on the counter, but he didn't move. Was Meryl just going to stand there while he changed?

_Maybe I should kiss her_, a brave voice said in the back of his mind.

_Are you an idiot? If there are any wrong moments, this would be the wrongest of them all! I wasn't planning on ever kissing her anyway! …well, not entirely._

"I'll be outside," she said, "I brought over those pictures and business cards."

Frozen, Vash waited until the bathroom door closed, then he stood up to lock it. He didn't expect Meryl to suddenly burst in when he had his shirt off, but he always locked the door as a safety precaution. He was an outlaw after all.

"Vash?" Meryl called. "Don't get any make-up on it."

He wondered if she was snickering behind that door.

Vash's new shirt was smooth and brought out his eyes just as he had expected. In addition, he felt quite relieved to be in dry clothes.

"Oops."

Meryl knew immediately that the phrase _oops_ was the worst one to hear from the outlaw. She came to the bathroom door as Vash spoke again.

"Meryl, I just got make-up on the collar," he whined.

"Vash! I told you to be careful!" Meryl chided. She reached for the door knob, but the broomhead had locked it. "Let me see," she demanded.

Hearing the door _click_, she stepped back as the blonde revealed himself.

"Where is it?" She demanded, rushing up to him.

Vash smiled. "Had you, didn't I?" He asked.

Lowering her eyebrows, Meryl sent him a glare. Didn't he understand how important this was? All her old friends were going to be there, the last thing she needed was a dumb blond posing as a doctor with make-up smeared on his shirt. She sighed.

"That's not funny, Vash." But nonetheless he looked proud of himself as she began circling around him examining the shirt.

"We're pretending to be married, I'm supposed to be a doctor, we're using pictures that come with picture frames, fake business cards, my name is _Mark_ and you're asking me to take this serious?" He asked quite calmly.

"This isn't about what we're using. Vash, I'm going to see everyone I grew up with, all my friends!" Meryl reminded.

"Ex-boyfriends?" Vash asked curiously. He had heard odd stories about women trying to outlive their ex-boyfriends by making their lives appear perfect, he had also heard it was because they couldn't quite get over them.

"I never had a boyfriend in high school," Meryl said, sounding exasperated. "But the point is that everyone is expecting to hear about all our accomplishments and what we've done with our lives! Without all this I'll look like a _nobody_!" She had finished circling him now and was straining to look into his halcyon eyes.

"You're Meryl Stryfe. Isn't that good enough? It's good enough for me."

Meryl's eyes rushed away from his. They returned to his button up shirt, where it was safe. "Your shirt looks fine" she said, in a tone that couldn't have been less convincing. "The pictures and business cards are on your bed. Vash… I still need to get ready." She turned away from him. "I'll be back to pick you up."

The door closed behind her.

Author's note: The next chapter is the beginning of the end. Finally they'll reach the reunion. I don't think you'll be disappointed. Thanks for reading!


	11. Faces at the Reunion

When Meryl had picked Vash up that evening, the outlaw wondered why he hadn't been given a warning or a heads-up. The little insurance girl had pulled some strings, broke out of the mundane, and showed up in a knee-length black skirt, a lace blouse and light jacket. A small black purse was held loosely to her side. In Vash's opinion she looked quite sophisticated. And only when Meryl broke the silence did he realize he had been staring.

"I know it's not exactly like me, but I did some research and according to those well-off, it's the perfect look for a reunion- that is if you're going for that business mom impression." She explained and then blushed as she caught his eyes. She must sound really desperate. "Anyway," she looked away, "Are you ready to go? Do you have your pictures and business cards?"

"Yup," Vash answered casually and patted his pocket.

"Good," Meryl sighed.

To Vash, the trip to the high school felt very protracted. Meryl must have been extremely nervous because she couldn't stop talking about how he needed to act and the impression they needed to give. She brought up everything from the way he should shake hands to how many people had been in her biology class, and she even brought up something called accumulative test scores twice. The knowledge all seemed to break out of some invisible dam and flood from her mouth in anxiety. Vash listened to her talk about how he needed to resist acting like a broomhead as they turned down another busy street heading north. The subject ended abruptly and Vash darted for a line of dialogue.

"Any guys I should worry about?" He asked, trying to sound casual again.

"I told you," she snapped, "I never had any boyfriends in high school!"

"I didn't mean-"

Meryl gasped, grabbed the outlaw -or doctor- and stopped him. They stood there for a moment, at the edge of an intersection where cars were driving recklessly.

"It's just around this corner," she explained. She began scanning Vash very critically. Vash blinked, staring into her anxious eyes. The light of a nearby saloon reflected on their shiny surface. Her hand slipped into her new small black purse and returned with the skin-colored make-up Vash had seen earlier. Meryl took off the lid and reached up for the outlaw. Reluctantly, Vash lowered his stature for the small insurance girl.

Meryl carefully began applying more foundation. She felt Vash's upper body rise and fall as his lungs let out a silent sigh.

"It just needs a touch up," she explained.

Vash stared into her dark eyes. They were so close, standing on a corner of busy street.

_I need to kiss her_! A voice said drastically in his mind. _I said I would_. His heart pounded loudly in his ears and Meryl continued spreading the make-up carefully on his face, oblivious to his indecisive thoughts. Then, before his thoughts could tell him otherwise, he closed his eyes and began inching forward, preparing for his mouth to hit body warmth.

"Vash, what are you doing?" Meryl asked awkwardly.

His eyes snapped open and found her. His mind went blank while his stomach contorted. What _was_ he doing? He was going to kiss her and he wasn't even heading in the right direction! He had been heading left while Meryl was now on his right.

"I thought you needed to get my right side," he answered quickly, his mind catching up to speed again. When she still looked confused, he added, "I figured it would be easier if I was closer so you could see clearly."

Her mingled expression turned into a glare. "I'm not _that_ short!" She growled and put a large slab of make-up on his face and began to rub it in vigorously.

Vash cringed. "Ouch! I'm still sunburned!" He reminded.

Meryl put the substance back into her purse in a business-like manner. "Now remember, whenever you mention your occupation hand out your business cards, and don't mention anything that has to do with Vash the Stampede."

She peered around the corner and Vash let out another sigh.

"Okay, let's go." She said and grabbed his arm, pulling him onto a new street.

Vash was able to identify the high school immediately, not because of the various individuals entering its front doors, or even the lettering embellished on its surface, but because the building's structure was very conspicuous for this city. The school's lay-out covered a vast amount of ground, like someone had taken the _Novinian_ hotel and stepped on it, flattening the structure in odd directions. Wide and long, the building stretched out down the street, surprising him with its area.

"I didn't realize so many people could afford to go to school, it's the largest one I've ever seen." He commented.

"The whole building isn't used for high school students, they have sections for younger children, but it's the only high school for cities and towns in the area," Meryl explained. "Which is one reason why this city is so lively, a lot of families move here to school their kids- if they can afford it."

Schools on Gunsmoke were much different than those of their ancestors on Earth. Going to one was such a privilege that only those who came from wealthy families were given the opportunity. Even the largest educational centers were smaller than the average on Earth. Because only a few students made it into high schools, high schools lacked a large amount of enjoyment in comparison. No class clowns or laziness had ever entered the buildings. All the students were hard workers, fighting for their space in education. A competition always existed, and much was expected out of them when they left the school. How one did in school could affect their future greatly. Unfortunately such peer pressure and requirements often left the majority of students "_sucking-up_" to adults with uncanny sweetness. And unlike the schools on Earth, the schools on Gunsmoke had no competition with any other high schools. High schools were so sparse and spread out that the idea of having any competition was immediately eradicated. Sports teams were nonexistent, and a good game of kick ball was considered orphan play. The only sports played by the students were found in P.E. class, which was normally dominated by the would-be football players.

Vash on the other hand had always personally enjoyed a good game of kick ball with children, and had no idea what he was getting himself into when he entered the large building. Meryl had her arm through his, and Vash could tell she was having a difficult time trying to decide how close their arms should be. Her uneasiness did little to comfort him, especially after their former incident when he had attempted to kiss her.

Inside the building Vash followed Meryl's lead through complicated halls until they reached a large spacious area where everyone had gathered. Vash spotted a line of tables on the other side of the room full of refreshments. It looked like the majority of people were starting a line there and finding a seat at some circular tables spread through out the area. He assumed that they would do the same until a large arm had pulled Meryl into a crowd of people, Vash followed with a tug.

"Hey, Meryl!"

The arm had belonged to a large man, whose majority of body weight seemed to gather at his stomach. In fact, Vash was sure the buttons on his shirt would shoot off any moment. He watched the male suspiciously and made a quick note of all the other individuals in the radius.

"Don't you remember that play I did in class that one time?" He asked. "Spencer had the ball and I completely rammed into him! I think we won the game by five points, weren't you on Sarah's team?"

Meryl gave him a sympathetic smile as she tried to rack her brain of the event.

"Oh, and that other time I completely creamed Chase?"

At these words several of the males in the area let out joyous laughter.

"So Meryl," a woman across from them spoke over the noise. She had just put away a travel-sized mirror and was eyeing the small insurance girl with a gleeful smug expression. "Who's this?" She asked with a plastic smile. Her auburn eyes directed their gaze to Vash.

Meryl could hardly resist the temptation to smile as she pulled Vash closer to her. Janet had been one of the people she had looked forward to bragging to most. All through high school Janet had always found ways of getting attention and approval from almost everyone, often taking credit for Meryl's hard work. She was talented with presenting herself as someone who would never make mistakes and more than once Meryl had felt the strong urge to disclose to the world how rude and self-absorbed she really was.

"Oh, I thought you would have heard by now. You've always been so good at keeping up on everyone's personal life." Meryl's smile gave Vash an uneasy feeling that we was going to be pulled into something he would much rather stay out of. "This is my husband, Mark."

Vash chanced a friendly small smile and reached out to shake the woman's hand, but instead the woman gave him a criticizing glance and turned back to Meryl. Vash quickly pocketed his hand, thankful it could be back in its safe headquarters.

"Giving up on Travis, have you?" Janet asked Meryl icily.

Vash's eyes quivered to Meryl, but the insurance girl seemed unmoved.

"Yes, in fact, I had given up on him before you even said we began." Meryl answered.

Behind Janet Vash could see the man who had alerted Meryl earlier. He and the rest of men were involved in another story about some sort of triumph from school days.

"What does he do?" Janet asked skeptically, referring to Vash as if he wasn't there.

"Actually, he's a doctor." Meryl answered.

"Oh really, what kind?"

"He works in all kinds of fields."

At this phrase, Vash removed a business card from his pocket and handed it to Janet. The woman looked at it carelessly.

"Anything else?" Janet asked.

"Yes," Meryl added quickly. "We've traveled all over Gunsmoke on business."

Janet raised an eyebrow.

"_And_ I had our child in December City, Mark delivered her."

Vash felt his face turn white, but the made-up comment seemed to finally win Janet over. She looked shocked and then her eyes wandered to Vash, impressed. Finally the glance landed on one of the men behind her, who Vash assumed to be her husband.

"Do you and Mike have any kids?" Meryl asked.

"Are you kidding?" Janet asked. "But what does it matter?" She readjusted her hair. "It makes you look _old_ faster. I already have a hard time keeping up on trends, and more so keeping Mike up to date. And just think, next time we meet you'll be a grandma, and I think I'd rather stay away from _old_ as long as I can. Oh, and by the way, you might want to get a different brand of anti-wrinkle cream, I see some lines forming just under your eyes." And with that note of jealously, Janet dropped Vash's business card with over exaggerated actions and then turned away to find her husband.

Meryl pulled a confused Vash away with excess force, grumbling something about wrinkles.

"None of them have changed one bit," she said darkly. "Still living in high school like it's the only thing worth living for. I bet she wastes hundreds of valuable dollars on _wrinkle cream_." Meryl said with added disgust.

"If it makes you feel any better, Meryl, I don't use anti-wrinkle cream," Vash interjected.

"No one should have to unless their at least 40!" Meryl growled.

Vash let the comment float in the air.

"Oh, hey," Meryl pointed. "There's Shane, he was one of my best friends."

Vash's aqua eyes followed her finger to a man who was dressed calmly in his Sunday best. His red tie and black hair gave him a suave look, but unlike the last group he had encountered, this man seemed to be quite friendly.

"Let's see how he's doing," Meryl decided and tugged Vash along behind her.

They weaved between two groups of people and came right up behind the man.

"Shane." Meryl spoke.

With a lively smile the man turned around and then a look of sweet surprise overcame him. Vash knew immediately that if this man ever received wrinkles, it would be from smiling too much.

"Meryl Stryfe! I didn't think you were coming, you've been so busy keeping track of outlaws- The Humanoid Typhoon and all that."

Meryl blushed slightly. Her arms squirmed in Vash's and then she glanced around at the nearby ears.

"Hey… wait a minute…" Shane said slowly, and looked at Vash suspiciously with his molasses colored eyes.

Vash stared back at him, not daring to look away. If this man did recognize him, Vash would only hope that he would have the courtesy of confronting him quietly. Although he wouldn't get his hopes up, with his terrible luck this whole crowd of people will be running around chaotically by nightfall.

"Hmmm," Shane continued. "I don't believe we've meet!" He held out his hand joyously.

Letting out his pinned up air, Vash shook his hand gratefully.

Shane looked down at their hands and then stared at the wedding ring fixed on Vash's left. His eyes darted to Meryl's hand frantically. They returned to Vash when their hand shake was over and he quickly backed away, looking disoriented and confused.

"Woah, woah, woah!" He put his hands up in the air. "Meryl! You never told me you were married!"

Meryl blushed deeply. Several heads turned at Shane's loud exclamation. What a tangled web this would turn into if her best friend hadn't known she was married, and to make matters worse, Vash added "want to see our baby's picture?"

Shane gasped. "_And_ you have a kid?" He looked disappointed for a moment and then tried to cover it up with over exaggerated joy. "Oh, congratulations, Meryl!" He quickly scooped up the insurance girl into a prolonged hug, one that Meryl thought she would suffocate if he held it much longer. Now she was even redder from lack of oxygen.

"When were you married? I can't believe it! Did I miss your invitation?"

"Oh Shane…" She sighed. "I don't even know how to explain this."

"Oh… no, I'm not offended- I'm sure you've been busy."

"It's not that," she said through her teeth. "It's a long story-"

Meryl's eyes seemed to have found something beyond Shane, and her sentence stopped abruptly. Her eyes widened and then she grabbed Vash's hand in a painful clench.

"Shoot, Travis is coming," she cursed. "Shane, I wasn't here," she said quickly, and pulled Vash yet again in a different direction. She ducked down under other people's stature, which Vash was sure was not necessary, being that Meryl was already too short to be seen.

"Who's this Travis guy I keep hearing about?" Vash inquired an urgent Meryl. He had heard the name several times and remembered encountering the mysterious signature and message in Meryl's yearbook.

"He's a rodent, that's what he is!" She hissed. "Hurry, this way- he's the last person I ever want to speak to again."

"MERYL!" A loud familiar voice boomed over half the crowd. Vash glanced bravely at Meryl and found her frozen in her crouched position ghostly white. Gabby was making her loud way over to them, taking time to attract as much attention to them as possible. A short man was sulking behind her and Vash concluded it was her husband, who seemed to have lost interest in the reunion long before he ever arrived.

"Oh my _gosh_! You made it! Oh, you look so cute together! How was the traveling?"

Meryl opened her mouth at lightening speed, but Gabby had mastered agility of the orifice long ago.

"We had a great trip. After passing through that little town where I ran into you, we took a bus to Lavington and then a Sand Steamer here to Marington. Oh, I just can't believe how much this city has grown. It seemed like just yesterday I was walking to this school- passed that gift shop for new comers- oh and by the way, it's still there! I was so pleased; we just had to go check it out. Their chocolate shakes are to die for! Do you remember going there after school? Jonny always had to borrow money because he always forgot his. That boy was a nice one though, two or three years younger than us. Did you ever get to-"

Meryl had spotted Travis making his way quickly over to her, when she finally took the initiative to interrupt.

"Gabby, I'm sorry, but Vash and I are really in a hurry."

Vash tensed as Meryl pushed him away. A sense of relief overcame him as Gabby continued talking for several more sentences, unaware they had left and unaware of his name.

"Hurry!" She hissed, but then a voice echoed even over Gabby's. It was loud due to the cupped hands near the mouth. Its sound was both enticing and obnoxious, yet not even the scratching of the voice was enough to prepare Vash for how repulsive its owner was.

"MEL!" It called.

"Hurry," Meryl said again, but the words were no match against the crowd of people, after several more weaves, two cracking dry hands grasped Meryl's shoulders and spun her around. The small insurance girl was staring directly at the most contorted man she had ever met.

Vash felt her nails dig painfully into his palm, and he wondered what could possibly make this human being so horrible. He did look unkempt, his shaggy blonde hair was greasy, and Vash couldn't help but notice that he was _almost _as tall as Meryl. But what made this man so hard to understand was something under the skin that Vash didn't know about, but he was quick to find out.

"Hey, Mel, long time no see," Travis said. His words were slurred and mumbled, like he was holding an invisible cigarette between his teeth.

Meryl said nothing.

"How about after the reunion we get a couple o' drinks, you know, we can do it legally now," as he spoke his arm mysteriously seemed to find its way around her neck, resting on the shoulders.

"I'd rather tackle some outlaws," she glared at him.

"Oh?" He asked, pulling his face dangerously close to hers. "I new you were truly scandalous- on the inside, Mel. You know, I could be an outlaw too, if that's what it takes."

Meryl was blushing, she had hardly meant anything of the sort in her comment, but of course, Travis being the twisted mind he was had to morph any phrase into an uncomfortable one.

"Blushing, Mel? You like the idea?" He asked.

"Don't disgust me any further," Meryl growled.

Travis somehow had the nerve to come closer. Didn't he know who he was talking to? Vash wondered. He was waiting for Meryl to physically attack, but the moment wasn't coming. Sensing her silent distress, Vash _happened_ to push Travis' arm off when he put his around Meryl. Travis glanced at Vash and then his eyes returned to Meryl with a sickening smile that seemed to affect everything on his face up to his eyes.

"Oh lighten up, Mel," he nudged her playfully.

Meryl sent him a death glare, one Vash recognized at once.

"So this is the type of man you went for?" He asked skeptically. "He doesn't seem like he would be a thrill. Actually, I'm surprised he was _good enough_ for you. My father owns half this land, was your father's boss, _and_ I had continual pardon from the school because of him. All that and it still wasn't enough…"

"What do you want, Travis?" Meryl snapped.

"Oh Mel, Sweet Cheeks, you know what I want," and without much more warning his hand darted to her rear end. Meryl reacted at once, her palm cutting through the air ready to make impact on Travis' skin. But out of evident repetition, Travis knew exactly when to duck. Meryl's hand swung through the air, while Travis looked up at her with a half smile.

"Old habits do die hard, Mel. You know where to find me," he said and departed at a quick pace.

"Er! That scum!" Meryl growled. Her hands clenched into quivering fists. With one swift move, she swiped the air right where his head had been. "I hate him, Vash, I do. I hate him!" She admitted.

Vash on the other hand seemed quite indecisive on what to do or say. He looked both disturbed and irritated, and when Meryl looked up at him to see his reaction he simply suggested they try the refreshments.

Unfortunately Vash had no better luck there. While Meryl was grabbing a few vegetables and some dip, Vash had wandered over to the sweets.

Deity had to be kidding him.

Placed neatly in the middle of the maroon table cloth were three plates full of three different kinds of gelatins. He stared speechless at the red one, which jiggled when someone began to scoop it onto his plate across the table.

"They're serving Jello?" Vash asked out loud.

"Sure looks delicious, doesn't it, Spikey?"

Vash froze while the person who was scooping up the gelatin began to hum _The Wedding March_. Slowly, very very slowly, Vash's eyes turned upwards to the man. He was a Priest with dark hair, a gleeful expression, and had a travel-sized confessional tucked under his arm. The Priest, Vash knew, could only make his situation go from bad to worse.

"Here, let me get that for you," Wolfwood insisted. And before Vash could even close his gaping mouth, The Priest unloaded a heaping spoonful of red jello right onto the outlaw's plate.


	12. Scheme

Vash stared at the jello, speechless. His mind seemed to be cramped and time stopped around him until he was awakened by another voice.

"Oh, hello, Mr. Vash! Fancy meeting you here!" Millie chirped, making her way over to the dessert table. She had a plate full of parfait and a piece of chocolate cake in her hands.

"Is Meryl here too?" Millie asked.

Wolfwood stared at the outlaw, who was still silent. "Hey, I told you I was keeping an eye on you." He said, picking up a fork from a little box next to the jello.

"What are you guys doing here?" Vash finally spoke.

Wolfwood smirked. He had guessed correctly. Judging by the hint of hysteria in Vash's voice, the outlaw had still refused to kiss the small insurance girl.

"Well, you see," Wolfwood started, waving the fork around like a conductor. "I was thinking about it, and what better place to get donations than at a high school reunion where everyone is trying to outdo each other." He nodded to the small confessional tucked under his arm.

Vash wasn't buying it, Wolfwood could tell by the down fallen expression stamped on his face, his mouth hanging slightly open.

"And I couldn't resist watching the jello; it looks so delicious, I wanted to make sure someone like you could enjoy the richness of its flavor." He gave Vash an over extended smile and scooped a clump of gelatin into his mouth. "MMMM…mmmmm… _mmmm_!"

Millie looked over at Wolfwood. "Gosh, Mr. Priest, you sure make that jello sound good." She then examined her own plate in serious consideration, trying to find a way to fit something else onto its surface. Maybe if she pushed some of the parfait over to the edge of the plate a space would emerge, but even then she would have to deal with the residue left behind.

Wolfwood glanced up at the outlaw. Vash was white. The Priest picked up another utensil from the little box and placed it on Vash's plate.

"Better have a taste before the night's over." He said, and then casually sauntered away, asking random graduates for donations and confessions.

Panic began to close in on Vash. He looked down at the wiggling jello. Its glossy surface reflected his eyes, tainted red. At once he dropped the plate on the table like it was something contaminated and diseased. He glanced at Meryl who was still near the vegetable table, oblivious.

And that's when it hit him.

With speed he rushed up through the stream of people to reach her, taking care not to bump into a single person. When he was finally next to the insurance girl, he gripped her shoulder. Meryl spun around and then looked relieved.

"Oh, you scared me I thought you were Travis," she stated with distaste. She looked back up at Vash. He looked oddly serious, as if he was preparing to go to a battle front. That look coming from an outlaw was nothing to feel relaxed about.

"Meryl, I need to talk to you," he said urgently.

"What's wrong?" She asked, staring into his determined eyes searching for an answer.

Without another word, he grabbed her arm and pulled her away in a rush. His tight grip made Meryl nervous. What was going on? What happened? Her heart sank. Someone must have found out he was Vash the Stampede!

He pulled her outside the busy room and down a hall, his eyes glancing at doors wildly. Why hadn't he thought of it before? Of course, the solution to his dilemma was so simple! It would be an awkward situation, but not as awkward as kissing her. He shook his head. That Priest had been so confident that his intimidation had stunted Vash's problem-solving skills. All he needed to do was to tell Meryl everything! She could play along and then the Priest would be off his back in no time!

….

Wolfwood sat down at a circular table next to Millie. He took another bite of jello and let Vash's last expression roll over in his mind. By the end of the night, Meryl would be confessing her long lasting love of Vash the Stampede, and heck, she may even leave a donation, Wolfwood thought. His eyes rested on the little confessional propped up in the center of their table. He had purposely made it conspicuous to the eye.

"Oh hey!" A loud voice interrupted his thoughts. A hand hit him on the back with a thump, making him choke on jello. He sputtered for a moment, but the individual took no notice, instead she began talking a hundred miles an hour.

"I'm so glad we have a priest in our class! I had no idea you would ever become one. Didn't you spend most your time with Landen and Trent? I knew you three were the best of friends. My friends are all here tonight, we still get together every so often. But I'm sure you guys do too. Oh my gosh! Isn't the jello just delicious tonight? I had a helping myself, even though…"

Wolfwood stared at her. Clearly this woman had mistaken him for someone else. He wasn't surprised though, after all the friendly faces he put on to try and get donations. Half of the people in here had thought him to be their classmate.

Someone who looked important was standing in front of a podium now, adjusting the microphone. Wolfwood glanced over at the woman, but she took no notice and continued talking faster than the Priest could comprehend. Her words jumbled spastically in his ear. Subconsciously he picked up a few here and there, but was unable to string them together in a relevant order.

The man standing in front of everyone had on a deep blue business suit and was beginning to bald. His red powerful tie looked expensive and up to date. He adjusted the microphone once more and began to speak. Slowly, the room fell silent and old classmates began to make themselves comfortable for the speech. Only one person was talking now besides the man, the woman standing next to Wolfwood and Millie. She took no notice of the sudden quiet atmosphere and continued on at top speed _loudly_.

Finally the short plump man next to her nudged her shoulder and brought her back to reality.

"Oops," she said. "I'll talk to you later, Taylor!" And she trotted her way to an empty chair, the man slinking behind.

Wolfwood sighed and took another bite of jello. His eyes glanced lazily around the room while the man before them seemed to drone on about something to do with all these people around him. His words were meaningless to the Priest, but Millie looked quite interested as she stared politely.

Wolfwood's eyes stopped at a door exiting the area. _Wait a minute_… his eyes scanned the people in detail. People with brown hair, black hair, blue eyes, brown eyes, mustaches, and necklaces crowded the room, all listening to the man before them save for the few spouses who looked irritated. His eyes halted at the door again.

_They're gone… grrr!_ With a flick of his wrist, he stabbed his fork into the red gelatin. _That sneaky Needle Noggin! _

"Come on, Hun," he said to Millie, standing up. "Our target has disappeared."

….

"Vash, what are you doing?" Meryl asked.

Finally, the outlaw stopped at a door labeled _custodian closet_, swung it open and pulled Meryl inside. The little room smelled strongly of cleaning solution, brooms were resting on the north wall, a rolling grey trashcan was backed in the corner, and a shelf full of bottles and containers was mounted just above Meryl's head. Meryl heard a fly buzzing contentedly around the room when Vash flipped on the light. The bulb was a low wattage, lighting the room up gloomily with a taint of frosted yellow. Her eyes slowly adjusted and Vash shut the door behind them.

"Meryl, I need to tell you something," Vash said. The dim illumination made him look livid and even more urgent. "You know how Wolfwood has been acting lately?"

"Yeah…" Meryl said slowly.

"I think a lot of it is all because of this stupid bet we made a while back."

Yes, Meryl remembered hearing them discuss something of the sort through the paper thin walls of that cheap hotel. But why was he telling her this now?

….

Wolfwood and Millie were wandering the hall just outside the commons. Keen with his senses, the Priest scanned the area. They prowled lightly down the corridor, stopping every so often so Wolfwood could put his ear up to a door and listen for voices. He examined a classroom entrance curiously. Was it possible that the needle noggin was getting more than his serving of jello? He doubted it. The outlaw was having a hard time stomaching the stuff as it was, unless the short insurance girl had-

_Thump._

The Priest's eyes peeled away from the classroom and rested on a little door further down the hall.

….

Meryl picked up the broom and repositioned it against the wall with its relatives. This closet was so petite that it was difficult not to bump into anything. If she wasn't careful, she would probably knock all the brooms to the ground.

….

Stealthily, Wolfwood led Millie to the door. The frame was an entrance to a little closet originally made for janitors. This time, however, Wolfwood knew by the voices that it was currently housing an outlaw and insurance girl.

The Priest froze. Millie, following his lead, listened intently to the words.

….

Meryl broke her eyes away from the brooms and returned them to the gunman before her, who was still looking distressed.

"Well," Vash continued at a quick pace. He shot a glance at the door. "In order for me to get to Marington I had to ride with Wolfwood. Meryl, he only let me go under one condition and now he won't get off my back until I fulfill my part. And…" He glanced at the door again. Meryl followed his stare curiously. "I need your help."

For being so imperative, the outlaw stopped abruptly, eyes still lingering on the door.

Meryl looked back at him. His eyes looked dark green in the faint light, and she could see the door reflected in them tensely.

"What do you-" Meryl began, but stopped as Vash brought his index finger to his lips, signaling her to stay quiet. Silence overlapped them.

….

_Darn that idiot! _ Wolfwood thought in the still air. _Darn him for being an outlaw with $$60 billion on his head! _He gripped Millie's hand. Vash was far too sharp for his own good.

….

What in the world was going on? Meryl wondered. She was stuffed in a broom closet with an outlaw pretending to be a doctor when they should be over with all her other classmates! But Vash looked so serious. Someone was listening to them. Should she be worried? Was someone after them? She wondered again.

Vash's eyes were locked; he stood up right and frozen.

Then all at once the silver door knob twisted and the door burst open revealing a joyful Priest and Millie, who were uncomfortably close to one another.

Wolfwood laughed. "Woops! Sorry, Hun, looks like this place has already been taken!"

Meryl glared at him as he weaved his fingers through Millie's, laughing like an idiot. What the heck were they doing here? Had the Priest threatened to reveal Vash to the world if he hadn't done his part? And how did they get inside the school? That Priest always had to ruin everything!

Wolfwood's eyes found Meryl and he quickly looked away.

"Ah! Vash!" He said as if he had only just noticed the outlaw. "Just the person I needed to talk to!" The Priest wandered his way from Millie to the gunman. He swung his arm around Vash in a brotherly fashion. Disappointed, Vash looked longingly at Meryl.

"Hun, I'm going to have a little man to man talk with our good friend here. Why don't you and Meryl save us some seats?" Wolfwood ask casually.

Meryl raised an eyebrow. "Wolfwood," she began, "are you drunk?"

The Priest looked at her seriously. "No, I just need to talk to Needle Noggin," he answered. Moving away from Vash, he sent Meryl out the door with one friendly push, while Millie followed behind. Another hateful glare was thrown in Wolfwood's direction by the short insurance girl. And in return, Wolfwood simply smiled and waved them a goodbye.

"Save the seats in the front!" He said as the two departed. He sighed and began closing the door. The moment it shut, he rounded on the outlaw and transformed into a hellish demon. Vash could have sworn he saw the flames of damnation raging in Wolfwood's dark eyes.

"You idiot!" He raged, grabbing Vash's collar. "What were you thinking!" He shook the outlaw fiercely. "You sneaky-! You can't tell Meryl that would ruin everything!"

Vash looked up at the Priest with inferiority. How much longer would it be before he met his maker?

Wolfwood gradually let go of his shirt, struggling to refrain from strangling the outlaw. Spikey was one of the few who really knew how to set him off. Even when he was doing what was right a dark side of the Priest loathed him and his perfectly good nature.

The collar of Vash's new shirt was now crumbled and creased. Wolfwood's fingernails had left an imprint in the fabric. Wrinkles were prone to take over.

_This priest is going to murder me one of these days…_ Vash thought, staring into those angry dark eyes.

"Listen, Spikey," Wolfwood said tensely. "Did you ever think that maybe Meryl would feel offended or depressed that you _didn't_ want to kiss her?!"

Vash blinked in response.

"If she _does_ like you, and I'm sure she does, than you would ruin all possible opportunities to _ever_ touch those luscious lips!" He continued. "Did it ever occur to you that she might want that moment? How could you even think of breaking the innocent heart of a woman?" Wolfwood asked.

Vash was looking very irritated now. "I know I promised to do this," he said, "and I'm thankful for the ride- while it lasted- but I can't go through! This day has been blown horribly out of proportion, especially since _you_ came bounding in here looking for amusement. This isn't some game!"

"Precisely! So stop beating around the bush and get to the job!" Wolfwood snapped.

They stared at each other in the dim light with distaste, eyes hard and lips pressed thin. Vash could hear the fly buzzing around in the corner near the trash can and he suddenly felt tempted to push Wolfwood into the garbage so that the insect could have some company.

"She doesn't like me," Vash finally said, breaking the heavy silence. "At least not like that. She's spent all day trying to get me to be someone else- telling me how to act, she yelled at me and even poured a huge bucket of water on me! If that doesn't tell you something than I don't know what does."

Wolfwood's reaction took Vash by surprise. The Priest looked aggravated with him, as if _he_ could help what Meryl felt for him.

"Spikey…" he sighed in dismay. "She was _flirting_ with you! What did you do? Did you guys get in a water fight?"

"What? No! I fixed my hair!" Vash answered defensively.

Wolfwood looked like Vash had just told him the apocalypse had arrived. "You fixed your hair?" He asked in disbelief. "Oh, Vash, what were you thinking? Clearly she was playing with you. You shouldn't have taken it so seriously!"

"You would have taken it seriously too if you had seen the death glare she gave me." Vash growled.

Wolfwood let out another exasperated sigh. "The outlaw of the century and he can't even do a little flirting." He made a self note.

"She wasn't flirting. She's been really stressed today," Vash looked away towards the door.

"Okay, Spikey," Wolfwood said intently. "You still have a chance, the reunion isn't over."

Vash's eyes widened. "What are you talking about? I can't kiss her! Not only would she be completely appalled, but I'm really rather rusty at this stuff." He blushed slightly, hardly visible in the dim light. "I actually went for it today, and she was completely confused with me. Wolfwood, I was heading in the wrong direction!" Vash cried out, beginning to sound hysterical.

"Oh…" was all he said and then raised an eyebrow at Vash. Again they stared in silence, Vash's eyes darting away from him until Wolfwood clapped his hands together. "Oh, don't worry about it, you'll be fine! Just make sure to put your hands on her jaw line, that way you won't be able to miss." He said. "Now when you find the next moment, don't listen to any of those self defeating thoughts and just do it! Heck, Spikey, are you an outlaw or not?"

"I'd prefer not, actually." Vash admitted, sounding depressed.

"Fine! Are you a man or not?" Wolfwood demanded with new euphoria. "You've stopped countless villains without a single bullet, what girl wouldn't want you?"

Vash kept his thoughts to himself this time. In all truth, he could think of plenty who wouldn't.

"Don't you feel that fire burning inside you?" Wolfwood asked. "That sense of manhood? Where you would do anything for the woman you loved? It's in there Spikey, I've seen it when you've rescued damsels in distress." The Priest was pacing now, like he was delivering a pep talk for a sports team about to go on the field. He used his hands to portray his thoughts and emotion leaked from his words. "Don't you want to love her? To hold her close and never let her go? What kind of man are you? Are you just going to let another woman get away without your consent? Take control Spikey! Show them how you really feel! It's not about whether she likes you or not, it's about letting her know you like her!"

He fell silent, checking to see if his speech had helped the Needle Noggin with his nerves. Vash looked slightly more lively and strong-minded.

"Do you wear that red coat just for looks or is it not the flag of determination?" The Priest growled.

"Determination," the outlaw whispered.

"So inhale the masculinity in your bones _and go get her!_"

Vash took a deep breath and then stared at the Priest. The air deflated out his lungs and suddenly his developed pride began to diminish. Doubt began to wash over his eyes again. What would Meryl do?

"HELP!" A piercing scream slashed through their silence. "SOMEONE HELP!"

Wolfwood and Vash's previous thoughts vanished from their minds. What was going on?

"We need a doctor!" Another voice echoed through the hall. "IS THERE A DOCTOR HERE?"

The Priest's eyes darted to Vash's. Before the outlaw could move an inch, Wolfwood had grabbed his shoulders, digging his nails into his flesh. With one swift gesture he pushed the outlaw through the door.

"Over here!" Wolfwood yelled. "The doctor's over here!"

Vash's face went white and his eyes landed on the Priest with panic. What had he gotten him into?


	13. Doctor

"Don't worry, Spikey," Wolfwood answered the outlaw's stricken face. "Get in there, get the job done, and then kiss her. It's the perfect opportunity." The Priest told him with confidence.

The man who had asked about a doctor had just spotted them in the hallway. His red tie and black hair made him look suave in his Sunday best. Vash's mind was so muddled that it took his subconscious a second glance to realize it was Meryl's friend, Shane.

"Wait, Wolfwood, I, I," Vash paused. "That doesn't sound very romantic," He ended.

"It doesn't matter. It's so late in the game already," Wolfwood said and began leading Vash towards the other man with yet another friendly push. "She'll be so impressed that you've saved someone's life that it doesn't have to be romantic."

"But Meryl has seen me save lots of people," Vash said. He wandered aimlessly towards Shane.

"Not like this- in front of all these _important_ people," Wolfwood went on. "Just get that fire cooking inside of you, Spikey, and it will be easy. Go after what you want. Remember you're a man, Vash, not a little mama's boy. And when those insecurities enter that little spiky head of yours, tell them off- they have no right to be there. You deserve this. Go get her, Mr. Masculine."

With one last push, the gunman left the hands of the Priest and entered the grasp of Meryl's friend, Shane. Shane looked frightened and urgent. His once smiling face was disturbingly serious. His hands were shaking and his breath was rigid.

"I don't know exactly what happened. All I know is that one minute the guy was fine and the next he collapsed to the floor. Thank goodness Meryl brought you." He sounded dazed as he led Vash back into the large room.

Inside, the large mass of people were gathered together, facing the scene. Even the man who had been speaking just minutes before was white and worried. Vash united with the mass, wondering what had happened.

"Get out of the way, I've found a doctor!" Shane announced to the crowd.

Meryl, who was among the mass, shifted next to Millie. She tried to get a glimpse of Shane, but due to her short stature she only caught uncomfortable views of those close around her. Oh how she loathed being vertically challenged.

Then, Millie's words catapulted her stomach to the ends of the world.

"Oh wow, I didn't know Mr. Vash was a gunman _and_ a doctor."

"_What?!_" Meryl blurted. Without another thought she pushed her way through a cluster of people until she caught sight of the blond outlaw. Vash looked alert, but completely uneducated. He hadn't been to a single day of schooling in his life. Yet here he was, waltzing around while Meryl had been broadcasting his false title. _Why? Why can't anything go right when he's around?_ She thought desperately, _with his terrible luck this whole crowd of people will be running around chaotically within the hour!_

Vash was escorted sporadically to the corpse on the ground. The man possessed red hair, strong hands, and graying skin. In Vash's fearful mind, he appeared to have been declared dead hours ago.

He stepped closer to the fallen man with caution. His footsteps echoed in the ears of everyone who surrounded him. The silence was nerve racking. Admittedly, Vash was relieved when it was broken by Gabby, who had just begun to talk deafeningly.

Apart from Vash's urgent pace, it was an eternity before he reached the man. Meryl watched him along with everyone else. She had forced her way closer to the scene, a strand of angry words flowing through her mind. Would it be asking too much to have just one night- one moment- that was completely normal with the outlaw? Apparently.

Wolfwood stationed himself to next to Millie. The Priest was the only one in the room who looked rather pleased with the situation. A small smirk took over his lips, delivering him a few dirty glances. Jello would be served in just a few short minutes- assuming, of course, that Vash would actually apply Wolfwood's sermon. And if he didn't… well, the Priest would make sure that the short insurance girl was the least of his worries.

All at once a loud voice interrupted the Priest's pleasurable contemplation. Only several seconds later did he realize that the words were directed at him.

"Oh Taylor, I'm so glad you made it." The woman was the same one who had been talking to him earlier, the same one who could never stop talking even in the most serious (yet entertaining) of times.

"Oh hello, Ms. Gabby!" Millie chirped happily, accidentally elbowing a nearby stranger as she waved to the woman. "Isn't this whole event just awful?" She asked.

Wolfwood's mouth dropped. He stared between the two of them as the woman began exaggerated the horror of the situation with a sprinkle of glee.

"You know this woman?" The Priest asked Millie in shock.

"Oh yes, her name is Gabby and she recently discovered a great secret to doing laundry with _starch_. She's really quite nice. We met while you and Mr. Vash were busy in that janitor closet." Millie explained.

"We were having a man-to-man discussion," the Priest corrected with extra emphases.

"Well, she invited us to dinner after the reunion." Millie added.

Gabby continued talking, taking no notice of Wolfwood and Millie's listening skills.

"What?" The Priest sputtered. "You're telling me you can actually understand the sequence of words raging from her mouth?"

Millie laughed at Wolfwood, clearly she had taken his question as some kind of joke. "Of course I understand her, Mr. Priest!"

"I wasn't joking," Wolfwood mumbled as the large insurance girl was absorbed into Gabby's new subject of conversation. He tried feebly to keep up with their discussion (or more like Gabby's monologue) for several seconds, but gave up with a sigh.

He remembered reading in a magazine that women had to get something like 1.5 thousand words out in one day to feel self satisfied, but as he heard the words spewing from Gabby's mouth he concluded that some required close to 2.8 billion.

Then everything happened so fast. One second the Priest was standing next to the women and the next he was being shoved to the front by them. When caught off guard, the circumstance was hard to control. He bumped into several other bodies- all different shapes and sizes- stepped on three feet, and received a face full of long dark hair. Finally, he was steered out of the jungle of people and into a pleasant opening, and it would have remained in full tranquility if Wolfwood hadn't turned around.

Hunched and kneeling over a graying body was the cursed gunman. And at once Wolfwood's position hit him in the face like a scorching pan fresh off the stove. He whirled around to the girls, his mouth slightly hanging and his whole stature looking very clueless.

"Hey! What are you girls doing to me?" He asked. "I didn't ask for this!" He growled.

Gabby was giving him some sort of explanation but the only words he caught were _priest_, _help_, _blessing,_ and something that sounded like _rutabaga_. Dumbfounded he looked to Millie for a translation.

"Go Mr. Wolfwood! Use those miracle working hands!" She cried out.

"Hey! Let's hear it for the man of the cloth!" The balding speaker said loudly.

A small handful of people participated in the cheer. The others were glancing darkly in the bald man's direction. His outburst of euphoria was not welcomed by the sticklers. After glaring at him they returned their stares to the corpse with concern.

Wolfwood's face fell as Millie's cheers finally died. A still silence took the room again. He stumbled to the outlaw.

"What's his condition?" he asked.

"I don't know, he's hardly breathing and is unresponsive." Vash mumbled, staring into the graying face of the corpse.

"Here, let me see," Wolfwood said, kneeling next the Vash. He pulled up his sleeves. The excess fabric cluttered his elbows. Solemnly, he took a deep breath, and began attacking the victim like a maniac. Grasping onto the man's shoulders, he began shaking him like a juice carton. Vash watched in horror until a note of suffocation left the lips of the unconscious followed by a sickening short inhalation. He, in return, attacked the Priest. Pulling the mad man away from the injured, he asked him what in love's name he was doing.

"You're killing him!" Vash exclaimed.

"Lighten up Spikey, he's just fine!"

Vash cautiously examined their patient. "Now he's not even breathing!"

"Well, I'm not the doctor. I'm just here to call upon the almighty for help." The Priest told him matter-of-factly.

"Go Priest!" Someone shouted. Suddenly, they both remembered how many people were around them.

"All those people," Vash whispered. "Are they expecting some kind of miracle?"

"A man of the cloth brings forth miracles." The Priest expressed a nervous smile and stepped back from the gunman.

"Ladies and Gentleman," he announced. "If we are to see anything come of this night we need faith! Faith in miracles! Faith in the Almighty!"

Vash felt anxiety begin to grow quickly in his stomach. This man could be dying. He wondered if the Priest meant anything that was falling from his lips or if he was just somehow playing pretend in desperation. The face Vash stared into was growing bluer. Whatever that forsaken Priest had done to him had only made his condition worse.

Once Wolfwood had effectively gotten the crowd to participate in some kind of chant he returned to Vash.

"Anything yet?" He asked Vash as if the outlaw was his employee.

Vash shook his head.

"What kind of doctor are you?" Wolfwood asked, beginning to sound nervous.

"You're the one who dragged me into this," Vash told him. Personally, he was glad to see that the Priest had been cornered into the circumstances. He deserved it, not only because he came uninvited, boasting his status, but because of everything that had happened since the night Vash had confessed so much of himself to the man.

"Is he… dead?" Wolfwood asked. He suddenly remembered that raising people from the dead had never been in his contract as a priest, and he sure as heck better not be expected to do it now.

"No, he has a pulse," Vash answered.

"That's it!" Wolfwood clapped his hands together. "CPR!"

"CPR?" Vash asked.

They stared at the graying face. An inanimate expression rested on its surface, and its gaunt color couldn't have clashed with his red hair any better.

"After you," Wolfwood said. He slapped Vash on the back and returned to the loud crowd.

Vash took a deep breath. If his actions would indeed save the life of this man, he would pursue them. He wouldn't be kissing the victim, just ensuring his life… but the presence of the Priest guaranteed that Vash would be taunted of the moment on a regular basis. A picture of the Priest laughing at Vash revoltingly entered his mind. The Priest's gigantic smirk nearly hid all other facial features. Vash could almost hear his laughter now.

"Vash!" Someone hissed.

The image disappeared.

The outlaw was pulled from his thoughts and looked up to find Meryl standing before him. He was unaware how long she had been there or how she had managed to push her way into the front row.

"Vash! He's choking! Give him the Heimlich!" She said urgently.

Quickly, Vash's mind analyzed the possibility and with his minor knowledge and faith in the small insurance girl's intellect he was ready to act.

Wolfwood glanced back at the outlaw, who was now standing up. _Drats, that needle noggin still hasn't done a thing!_

"Millie," he called out. "Hand me my confessional!"

"Right away, Mr. Priest." He heard her reply.

Within seconds the small building was twirling through the air. Wolfwood caught it before it could fall to its doom. With new energy he raised it above his head, in front of the crowd. His outstretched stature made the tiny structure look of great importance, and the lighting of the room shined magnificently on its miniature roof.

"Save this man by making a donation!" He cried out. "Do I see a few dollars? Put your faith into donations!"

Dozens of hands shot into the air, all clenching multiple dollar bills.

"Just put your money in here and not only will you be redeemed in the end, but you'll be accountable for working miracles by saving this man's life!"

With a gleam in his eye, Wolfwood handed the confessional to a desperate looking woman. "Pass it around to everyone, now. Don't let a single donation be skipped!" Containing the tiniest evidence of a smile, the Priest was just returning his attention to the uneducated outlaw when he had the strange sensation of being pushed out a window. The image was so unexpected and horrific that the Priest felt compelled to turn away, but was unable to divert his eyes. The outlaw had lost his mind. Having manned the victim, he was hitting the corpse hard in the upper gut. Mouth hanging open, Wolfwood was completely dumbfounded.

Suddenly, a gurgling sound escaped the man's lips and something warm and half digested shot out of his mouth like a bullet. With great agility, the object catapulted majestically through the air until- **_splat!_** It hit Wolfwood square in the face.

Vash felt the man slide through his arms and collapse on the floor, silent. For a fleeting moment the gunman felt pure satisfaction, but it disintegrated as his eyes stared at the man. He wasn't moving. Vash felt his stomach churn. Wondering if he had been too late, he took a hesitant step forward.

"You might still have to do CPR, Vash," he heard Meryl whisper behind him. He didn't take his eyes off the corpse.

Finally a gasp of air escaped the man's lips. Fresh oxygen filled his lungs and his chest began to rise and fall heavily. Feeling as if that man's first breath was his own, Vash inhaled a deep sense of relief, followed by elation.

Then a thought that had nothing to do with the man burned into Vash's mind. At once, he whirled around to Meryl, seized her jaw line, and kissed her.


	14. Jello

Authors Note: Have you ever had one of those days where you feel like you don't even have time to breathe? I've been having one of those days for the last several months. Finally having time to sit down and work on my fanfiction felt like heaven. I would apologize for my lack of updates except that I really couldn't control it. Anyway, it feels good to be back. I wanted this chapter up as much as you did. Thanks for reading, enjoy.

* * *

Both irritated and disgusted, Wolfwood began to rid his face of the half-digested food. The splattered substance streaked across his clean sleeves as he wiped it away from his eyes and nose. Once the food had found a new home on his suit, his eyes shot open to find the outlaw. Wolfwood immediately forgot about scolding the gunman as he watched Vash cease the small insurance girl and kiss her.

A look of pure shock washed over Meryl's face. She was frozen, her eyes wide and hesitant. Wolfwood watched her right hand quiver slightly and raise a few inches. Had he actually made a mistake? He wondered in horror. The small insurance girl wasn't closing her eyes, and her itching hand put the idea into the Priest's head that she was contemplating an attack on the outlaw. Vash on the other hand appeared to have his eyes shut tight, eyebrows lowered together, too afraid to ever let go. If Meryl wasn't going to go along with the game, the Priest knew Vash would blame him for everything. Just when Wolfwood was considering leaving the circumstances, she closed her eyes, and he felt compelled to stay. A large smirk spread across his face. _Finally._

Vash felt his heart fluttering madly. He couldn't believe he had done it. His lips were pressed against hers, she wasn't pulling away, and he had kissed her in front of everyone. Seconds passed… they were still in the kiss, and he began to relax a little, his face softening. More time elapsed…and Vash began to wonder... what was he supposed to do next?

_Now what?_ He thought, beginning to feel uneasy. He hardly dared pursue more, but was putting off the moment they broke apart, because awkwardness was guaranteed to follow.

Wolfwood watched their kiss. Exciting at first… but after 10 very long seconds had passed and neither of them had moved a muscle, he felt irritated with the outlaw. What was he doing? Wolfwood slapped his forehead with his palm and then let his hand slide down his face. Once he had Vash cornered, he seriously needed to give him some kissing lessons.

Finally, they pulled apart. Wolfwood watched their eyes meet and Meryl blush deeply. Both were unsure of what to do next as they stared at one another in silence. Their eye-contact broke sheepishly by Vash.

"Excuse me," he mumbled.

Wolfwood watched the outlaw depart at a quick pace for the nearest door, leaving Meryl frozen and confused. The Priest was about ready to pull out his hair. His hands clenched into fists of frustration. He restrained from cursing and glanced frantically around for Millie instead.

"Millie!" He called. "Millie!"

"Wow, Mr. Priest. Did you see? They actually did it!"

After hearing her voice, he turned around to spot the large insurance girl, who was looking both pleased and excited. Didn't she understand? If they didn't act now, circumstances would be worse than ever.

Wolfwood reached for a cigarette in his front pocket.

"Hun," he lit his vise. "We've got some work to do. If we don't help those two sort out their emotions, we're going to have some serious battles. Act quickly."

"Yes, Mr. Priest." Millie answered happily.

"You take the insurance girl, and I'll take the outlaw."

"Right." Millie nodded.

"Ready? Break!"

And at once they departed. Millie for Meryl and Wolfwood for Vash.

Everything felt surreal to the short insurance girl, who was still staring after Vash even after he had exited the room. Voices full of emotion bounced through the area, several stares were on her, but none of them mattered to Meryl and she stood frozen in front of everyone. When Millie grabbed her hand, Meryl's eyes finally ripped away from the door and landed on her partner.

"Millie," she began in a daze, "I think Vash just kissed me."

"He sure did, Ms. Meryl."

"It was _him_ wasn't it? It wasn't Mark, it was Vash, right?" Meryl seemed to suddenly wake up from her surreal slumber. Her heart was pumping faster now.

"I don't know any Mark, Ms. Meryl, but that man looked like Mr. Vash the Stampede to me."

Meryl heaved a sigh and then jumped again as her old classmate, Janet, walked passed them. Meryl suddenly observed her every move and then extended her gaze to the nearest bodies. Gabby was no where in sight, but she hoped no one else was able to make sense of their subtle conversation.

"Let's get out of this room," Meryl said to Millie. "I don't want anyone over hearing us."

Meryl led Millie through the crowd of people with mixed emotions. When several people tried to stop her for a full account of what had happened and where her husband had gone, she ignored all of them but Shane.

"I can't talk right now," was her answer to him, and she continued, exiting the opposite end Vash had.

….

Vash returned to the tiny janitor closet. He slumped against the wall and let his body slide down it until he was sitting on the dirty floor next to the collection of brooms, the after affects of an adrenaline rush in his system.

What the heck was wrong with him?

He made a complete fool of himself. _He walked away_. He _walked away_ after they kissed. What was he thinking? Who does that?

"You are a fool, Vash," he said in the darkness. His palms rested on his forehead, extending his fingers into his hairline. Nausea overcame his stomach. He must be insane to go after someone like Meryl. That woman was too hard to please. Never would he be good enough for her.

Sure, he had kissed a woman before. He had even gotten out of hand with a bartender, but the problem was that he couldn't treat that small insurance girl like any other woman. She didn't put up with it, she could hardly put up with him. Meryl never showed skin, but somehow she still got harassed from time to time. She was responsible, but beautiful. She was blunt, but caring. She wasn't like anyone else Vash had had eyes for.

…_but that kiss_… Vash remembered the moment and smiled in spite of his embarrassing predicament. His stomach seemed to expand and his heart felt heavy. _That kiss beat out donuts any day of the week._

BAM! The door was thrust open. The Priest, Nicholas D. Wolfwood, was standing admirably in the opening. Bright rays of light from the hallway cast long shadows in the closest and made the silhouette of the Priest defined in the framing. Vash looked up at him, his eyes struggling to adjust to the sudden burst of light.

Before his eyes had ever fully adjusted, his collar was once again wrinkled in the Priest's grasp, and the outlaw was dragged out into the blinding hallway.

"What was that?!" Wolfwood demanded, particles of spit landing on Vash's subtle expression.

The outlaw looked back into the Priest's angry eyes and found equal dislike for him.

"Well excuse me for not eating her face off like you do with Millie."

"What did you say? Eat her face off? Bah!"

Wolfwood let go of Vash's collar, and it looked even more wrinkled than before. Glowering, he put out his cigarette.

"I kissed her, isn't that good enough for you? That was the deal." Vash reminded, glaring at the Priest.

"No it is not good enough for me!" Wolfwood raged. He stomped on the remains of his cigarette with complete distaste.

"Well, what did you expect me to do? Hang all over her? Feed her pudding with my spoon?" Vash was secretly pleased to see the comment anger the Priest. Wolfwood's eyes narrowed and he looked close to bursting, his hands clenched in fists.

"Now listen here, Spikey, you have no idea what we've been up to. Don't accuse me for things your little needley head can't contain."

But Vash finally had a fleeting taste of victory as a small ruddy patch began to spill out across the Priest's cheeks.

"For your information, Meryl and I have had enough of you draping yourself all over her," the outlaw continued. "How far have you gone with her anyway? What are you going to do when you have to return to the orphanage? Just leave her?" he demanded, closing in on the Priest until he had Wolfwood backed up against the wall. "You can't be with her forever. You can't drag her into all this danger, and even after it's all said and-"

"Don't you ever listen to me, Spikey?" Wolfwood interrupted, roaring over the outlaw. "This had nothing to do with me and Millie, this whole time it's been about you and Meryl!"

Vash glared at him.

"Now would you just listen?!" Wolfwood asked. "Everything me and Millie have done has been to get you two to admit to one another!"

Vash didn't believe him. This Priest was full of it.

"The more time we spent together, the more time you two spent together. Heck, Spikey, we even gave you a topic of conversation!"

"Then what about grocery shopping? What was that about?" Vash demanded at once.

"It was nothing!" Wolfwood exclaimed. "We didn't do anything. She's not just some street girl, Vash. Millie doesn't deserve that, and you know she is the youngest of ten- seven brother and two brother-in-laws. Would you want to put up with that?"

Vash could hardly believe the words issuing out of the Priest's large mouth. Without his consent, his jaw dropped and he had to take a moment to regain himself. "Then what _is_ grocery shopping?" He asked, bewildered.

"It's nothing! It's whatever you choose it to be! You're the one who decided what it was! I didn't tell you a thing." Wolfwood exclaimed.

Vash was dumbfounded. His world was collapsing.

….

Inside the large restroom of the high school, Meryl tried to gather her thoughts. The kiss the outlaw had unexpectedly issued was still vivid in her mind. At first she had thought perhaps the outlaw had taken their imaginary relationship too far, and that perhaps he had kissed her because he could simply get away with it… and he did. The idea to be taken advantage of by someone who had agreed to help her was enough for Meryl to nearly attack the outlaw, but for some deep reason she gave in. And once the kiss had finally ended, she realized her assumptions had been all wrong. Vash's actions, his eyes of insecurity, and his sheepish departure, only slapped Meryl in the face with what she thought was impossible. The outlaw had feelings for her.

For a long time, Meryl stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror in silence, contemplating the outlaw. Like so many moments she had had with him, she had concluded wrongly about his intentions. He was elusive, never what he seemed.

"Millie, I don't know what to do," she finally spoke, keeping her eyes on her reflection. "Maybe we should just go on and act like nothing happened."

"Why would you do that?" Millie asked.

"Because everything is so complicated. And not only that, he's my job, he's an outlaw with $$60 billion on his head." She pointed out. A relationship, Meryl felt, would only make life more difficult and emotions harder to decipher. Life was confusing enough without the outlaw. Unfortunately, she felt deeply inclined to take the easy way out of the situation by making no specific decision at all.

"You love him, don't you?"

The question was posed as a simple one. Millie asked it as if she was merely asking what time it was. Meryl didn't answer.

"Then what else matters?" Millie asked.

Meryl wondered how her partner could always be so calm. Even if the end of the world was taking place, Millie would still be lending a hand to anyone she met with a lighthearted attitude. Millie. Somehow she could go through life simplistically and never have a rainy day.

"Meryl, Mr. Vash likes you, Mr. Priest told me so… he also said that he is too afraid to tell you." She shared. "He just doesn't want to lose your friendship."

Meryl laughed. "How can he lose it? He can't lose me, I'm assigned to him!"

"It's hard to let people in sometimes…" Millie spoke. "Most the time you don't know what you're getting into, but that's what makes life exciting. Meryl, I don't know much about Wolfwood's lifestyle, but I do know what kind of person he is. He's kind to me, and we've had a lot of good times together, and some good discussions. I know he has a good heart, and everything else that comes with him is what makes him interesting."

"But Wolfwood isn't an outlaw with $$60 billion on his head…" Meryl pointed out in dismay.

"And when it gets down to it, Vash isn't either, is he? He has close to none of those characteristics you would expect him to have with his title. You out of all people should know that, you know him better than anyone."

"Still, Vash has been accused as a terrible man, and if my family or anyone else found out he was more than just a job to me, it would seem my whole foundation of life would turn into one huge battle."

"How can you let anyone else's judgment stop you when they don't even know who Vash really is?" Millie asked Meryl.

Meryl frowned and her stature seemed to diminish. "Most of those people out there don't even know who I am." She commented. "None of them have an inkling of what we've gone through with our job, and what drastic choices we have had to make. Instead the whole school puts on all these stupid facades…" She turned away from the mirror.

She looked indecisive and distraught. Her eyes were full of worry as she tried to conclude this decision that had been going on for what felt ages. On many accounts she had decided outright to just leave the gunman as a job… but then he became a friend, and then somehow her feelings of friendship and relationship had melted together inside her own mind. Still, even then she decided he would be nothing more than a job, but she had never felt comfortable with this conclusion... and she would often times catch her mind spending precious time thinking of him.

"So what if it's a mistake?" Millie spoke, "So what if life doesn't go as expected? You learn a lot more from risking and failing than never risking at all. I've learned over the years that what's best for you is simple. Don't over complicate it, Meryl."

Meryl thought about Millie's words. Just talking to Vash instead of trying to avoid the matter would lessen much of her stress. She did have a terrible habit of complicating life.

"I must have a lot of authority," she said finally, leaning against the bathroom sinks, "to make someone like Vash shake in his boots."

Her eyes rested on the bathroom ground, overlooking the layout of beige tile and stalls. Then something caught her eye. In the opening under one of the tan stalls were two dark legs framed perfectly. Each foot was fitted nicely in a pair of white strapped stiletto heals.

Meryl's stomach squirmed. Someone was listening to them.

…

"So," Vash continued after regaining himself from the sudden confession. "You're telling me this whole thing between you and Millie is a lie and that you've honestly just been spending innocent time doing who knows what?" Vash asked. Suspicious, he was still unsure of whether or not he could believe the Priest. Wolfwood was always misleading him and was completely inexplicable.

"If you really want to know, we've been plotting our conversation about you two… and she has been teaching me a thing or two about chess," he added offhandedly.

"So you don't really like Millie?" Vash asked.

One of the Priest's smirks overcame his face. "Now, I never said that. I just haven't been implying the truth."

"Are you two even together?"

"Well, we have kissed on several occasions, but nothing-" Wolfwood suddenly caught himself with a jolt. "But that's beside the point! This is about you and Meryl! And _you_ need to find her and talk to her. She's probably confused to death, the poor thing."

"Wait a minute…" Vash said, his mind taking in everything the Priest had just confessed. "Then that bet you made was a set up! You knew all along she liked me! You," he pointed a threatening finger at the Priest, "are a dirty player!"

"You agreed to the bet fair and square," Wolfwood argued.

"No I didn't, I never said I was even betting! _You_ are the one who had mistaken-"

"Alright! Alright! Enough!" Wolfwood put his hands up. "This isn't about the bet! We need to get you in shape Spikey, and fast. The longer we spend here talking about our little differences-"

"Little differences?!"

"-The harder it will be to get your courage up. Now, here is what you need to do. First," the Priest said, counting the digit on one of his fingers, "find Meryl. Second," he moved to his second finger, "get her in a position where she will listen to you. Third, confess your feelings for her and listen to her confession. It's that simple, Spikey. Easy as one, two, three." He counted all three numbers off on his fingers. "Then you two can _finally_ move on with your relationship."

"But it's not that easy," Vash said again.

"Nonsense, the hardest part is over." Wolfwood insisted and waved Vash's comment away with a flick of his hand. "Just be sincere and respectful. You pretty much already have her."

"But what if I _can't _have her, Wolfwood, you have no idea what kind of-"

"-Danger? Please, Vash, does Meryl shrink away from danger? Even you should know that."

Wolfwood looked back into Vash's aqua eyes and suddenly felt uncomfortable. His eyes looked desperate and empty. This gunman was really afraid of something, something deeper than all this business with high school reunions. A rush of guilt flooded the Priest.

"Wolfwood, you really have no idea," Vash said again with his vivid eyes.

The Priest looked away from the gunman's expression.

"I _can't_ do this." Vash spoke.

"Oh, buck up, outlaw," Wolfwood growled, knocking Vash in the stomach. "Suck it up and be a man! Anyway, I know just what you need to defeat your cold feet."

Without any more hints, Wolfwood pushed the outlaw back into the custodian closet.

"Don't you move a muscle until I get back, and don't you even think about not going through with this!" He said.

The closet door shut, leaving Vash in near darkness.

….

Finally, the stall of the woman's restroom opened to reveal a woman dressed in azure. She had a narrow figure, rectangular framed glasses, and an uneasy look on her face.

"Roseanne?" Meryl asked with surprise.

"Meryl Stryfe," the woman replied.

"You heard everything we were saying. What are you doing in here?" Meryl asked.

The woman named Roseanne gave the small insurance girl a disgusted look. "I don't think it's any of your business."

"Oh, Roseanne, I haven't seen you once all night. I didn't even know you were here. Do me a favor and don't tell anyone anything about what we've been talking about? Everything will turn into an even bigger mess…"

"About you and Vash the Stampede? Is he here in this building?" Roseanne inquired with a sense of urgency.

"I'm not sure anymore… but it really isn't what it looks like," Meryl tried to explain.

"Mr. Vash the Stampede has been working with Meryl, and Mr. Vash has taken a liking to her." Millie shared.

Meryl gave her partner a look that demanded her silence. She returned to Roseanne, who looked alarmed and untrustworthy. Her forest green eyes appeared restless behind her glasses. "You won't talk about it, will you? If you do this whole place will be in ruins," Meryl sighed.

"Don't worry," Roseanne smiled, "I'll do anything for one of my best high school friends."

Unlike her kind words, Roseanne didn't give Meryl any reassurance of keeping her mouth shut when she departed the restroom at a quick pace. The shine in her eyes reminded Meryl of the sneaky liar Roseanne used to be. Her golden brown locks and stiletto heals disappeared from the insurance girls' view, and with a perpetual squeak, the door swung for several seconds before finally stopping.

Meryl gripped her hair in frustration. "Uugh! Millie, why can't anything ever go right? I think I've adapted the Murphy's Law and everything is going to fall apart!"

"But she said she wouldn't tell anyone," Millie pointed out.

"She can't be trusted with a smug look like that! I don't know why she would tell anyone, we have always been good friends. Do you think she's jealous for some reason?" Meryl asked. All through high school she had watched Roseanne create havoc on innocent students simply because she was jealous of them. Thankfully, Meryl had never been one of those individuals. All through high school she remained friends with Roseanne, always keeping a safe distance.

"Ms. Meryl, I think all this high school reunion business has reduced everyone back into the drama integrated lifestyle of adolescence." Millie concluded.

In aggravation, Meryl's fist hit the wall. "I hate high school."

"Maybe we should all just leave and call it a night," Millie suggested.

"No…" Meryl moaned. "We've got find Roseanne."

"But she just left."

"Then it shouldn't take us long. Come on, Millie." Meryl ordered, and with authority, marched out the bathroom door.

….

Vash was alone in the custodian closet for a long time. Mixed emotions intertwined through his thoughts. Like many previous situations, he was unsure if he would make it out of this reunion alive.

"Open up, Spikey, I've brought you something."

The Priest's voice rang sluggishly in Vash's ears. Both distressed and calm, the outlaw opened the door.

"Just what you needed, right?" Wolfwood asked.

Vash's eyes adjusted to the new lighting and rested on the shiny new fabric in the Priest's hands. The bundle of red embellished with black buttons looked familiar to the outlaw. Vash grabbed the fabric in his hands and held it up. With speed, the coat unfolded and swayed frivolously in the doorway. The flag of determination. The outlaw's redcoat was well intact, clean, but differed slightly in several areas.

"Wolfwood… where did you get this? This isn't mine." Vash remarked.

"What do you mean it isn't yours? This coat is your trademark!" Wolfwood argued. He gripped the red fabric and shook it with man-power as if the coat magically gave confidence to any male.

"Mine melted." Vash reminded. "Where did it come from?" He asked again.

"I bought it." Wolfwood shrugged.

"You can't buy these."

"I have connections! But if you're ungrateful about it, I'll just take it back! I went to a lot of work to get it here. Now put it on." Wolfwood demanded.

Vash gave him an insecure look of suspicion. This Priest was always hiding something up his sleeve, wasn't he? Before putting it on, the outlaw made sure to examine its surface thoroughly. His new red coat was not fashioned by the same person who had previously assembled his coats, this one had different stitching. This information relieved his anxiety a modicum.

"Hurry it up in there!" Wolfwood pounded on the closet door.

Vash's eyes lingered towards his banging.

"We don't have all night!"

"I'm hurrying" Vash responded, and began slipping on the red coat. This coat didn't fit him like his other one, but because of its symbolic nature, he felt rejuvenated by its touch. As he buttoned each button, he remembered many successful and unsuccessful instances where he had felt determination run through him. He remembered lives he had saved… and deaths he could not stop. He remembered young childhood melodies and red geraniums. And as he buttoned the last button, he remembered one woman. Meryl Stryfe.

"Finally!" Wolfwood growled when the door opened. He took little notice of the serious look of determination on the outlaw's face. Instead, he retrieved a small box from his right pocket and threw it at the outlaw.

Vash caught it with ease. His eyes skimmed the box's scarlet surface.

"What is this? Your cigarettes?" He asked.

"No, they're chocolates, Needle Noggin!" Wolfwood growled. "You would die if you tried to smoke those."

Vash blinked. "The box is so small." He pointed out.

"It was all I could afford," the Priest answered with a shrug. Then he retrieved a tiny plastic spray bottle. "Open wide, Spikey."

After Vash opened his mouth, Wolfwood began spraying the minty substance all over in it. He had just finished drenching the outlaw's tongue when Vash began coughing and pulled away from the Priest. "Is my breath really that bad?" He sputtered. "I could have used that before I kissed her."

"Just playing it safe," Wolfwood answered. He pocketed the breath-freshener in Vash's red coat before pulling out the next item, which was a small glass bottle of cologne.

"Just one spray of this cologne and I think your set, Spikey." He remarked. Very carefully, the Priest aimed the cologne and sprayed the neck of the outlaw.

Vash inhaled the fragrance, and to his surprise was quite fond of its scent.

"I don't get to keep that one?" He asked after Wolfwood tucked the glass bottle away.

"That stuff is expensive, and it's Millie's favorite," he answered.

"Well, that's helpful," Vash answered with a hint of sarcasm.

"It's better than nothing," Wolfwood answered. Then the Priest stood back to admire the gunman. If Vash didn't get the small insurance girl tonight, he didn't know what would. They stared at one another for a few seconds before Wolfwood broke the silence.

"For love?" He asked holding out his hand.

"For love, and for peace!" Vash replied and shook it.

"Go get her, stallion."

Taking one last deep breath, Vash stepped passed the Priest.

Wolfwood lit a cigarette. After inhaling its delectable chemicals, he heard the gunman's feet stop. _Now what's wrong?_ He wondered.

"Wolfwood," Vash broke the silence with seriousness. "Don't ever call me that again."

"Heh," the Priest smirked. A puff of smoke escaped his lips as the gunman sauntered down the hallway.


	15. In the End

Meryl and Millie had reentered the main room. Meryl, whose eyes were darting around for Roseanne, took little notice of the eyes that seemed to suddenly land uncomfortably on her. Everyone in the room was divided into clusters now, and the man who had been choking was gone.

"Hullo, Ms. Gabby!" Millie called to the woman clear across the room. She waved energetically.

"Millie! We need to find Roseanne!" Meryl hissed. Gabby was even less welcomed by Meryl at the moment. Every second they wasted was another person told about Vash the Stampede. If all these people were as nosey as they were in high school, rumors would be breeding and spreading faster than Millie could spot pudding.

With more force than necessary, Meryl grabbed the arm of the woman closest to her. "Have you seen Roseanne?" She demanded.

The woman, who was named Collette Viper, shook her head. Her large silver hoop earrings swayed in the air, catching the light from every angle. Meryl even caught her harsh expression on their shiny surface.

Meryl let go, and searched the surrounding people.

"Have any of you-"

Like daggers, Meryl was cut off by Janet, whose gleeful smile seemed to slither into the depths of Meryl's stomach. "I've only just heard, Meryl, seems you have gotten a lot more friendly with that job of yours than any of us had imagined." The woman that Meryl had talked to earlier that evening stepped forward. Because she was swaying her arm, the murky liquid in her small glass rippled and waved.

Meryl's mouth seemed to hang open against her will. Her expression only fed Janet's twisted smile with more frivolity. It looked eerie on her shiny plastic Barbie-doll face.

"Been having a little affair, have we?" Janet asked. "How does sixty billion taste?" She took a light swig of her punch.

Loathing began to fill Meryl to the brim. She felt so much contempt for the person in front of her that she didn't know what she wanted to say to her first.

"Enjoy the heated breath of the outlaw? Or is it the firearms that have you?"

Feeling no words could do her emotion justice, Meryl lunged for the plastic-skinned woman. Her attack, however, never reached Janet. Two hands had suddenly pulled her away from the terrified classmate. She whirled around to demand that Millie release her, only to find herself facing Shane. Her angry expression slackened, and at this hesitation, her high school best friend pulled her further away from her enemy. Janet's comments were still lingering in Meryl's mind. How could anyone say such things? She had the entire story all wrong… and Vash… and Vash…

_How does sixty billion taste?_

Meryl's hands clenched into fists, she shook in Shane's forceful grasp.

Finally, the young man stopped and let go of her.

_Enjoy the heated breath of the outlaw?_

"Meryl? _Meryl!_"

Her eyes and mind broke away from Janet, and only when she looked up at Shane did she noticed he had pulled her into a far corner of the room.

Her heart was still pounding.

"Are you listening to me?" Shane asked.

"I have to find Roseanne!" Meryl said suddenly. As she turned away, Shane's hand grasped her firmly on the shoulder.

"Meryl Stryfe, listen to me!"

She looked back into Shane's eyes.

"Answer me. Has Vash the Stampede ever harmed you?" He asked seriously.

"No-"

"In anyway? Meryl, you're my best friend, and when I hear he has raped you, I won't stand for it. I've sent someone to get a hold of the sheriff. Did he put you up to this? Is there something he wants here so he accompanied you? People are saying he raped you!"

Even though she saw the concern in his eyes, Meryl could not keep the frustration out of her voice. "Vash would never do that! I can't believe- You don't even know what kind of person he is!" She argued, feeling both irritated and revolted that anyone would suggest such a thing.

"Meryl," Shane began, as if he was trying to teach her something very simple. "He's an outlaw with $$60 billion on his head! This man is dangerous. He's done more damage than anything in our history. If you need help, if you need protection, Meryl-"

"Shane, he's nothing like that!" She growled. Why wouldn't anyone listen to her? "He hasn't done anything to me!"

"-when the sheriff comes, you can tell him anything. I don't want you to feel like it's unsafe to really say what happened." He continued.

"But the sheriff is the last thing we need!" Meryl exclaimed. "Shane, listen to me. Vash hasn't done anything to me, and nor would he do anything harmful to anyone else- at least not on purpose," she added. "Him coming here tonight wasn't even his idea."

"Meryl, he's-"

"I know what he is far better than anyone else! Don't you trust me?" She asked.

She felt Shane's eyes look deeply into hers. Buried far inside them she caught a miserable shadow. Then suddenly, reflected on the surface of his eye, she spotted Roseanne. Without another word, she turned away from him.

She grasped Roseanne, who welcomed Meryl with an appalled look. Her face retracted so far from the small insurance girl, that it gave her the misleading appearance of having a triple chin.

"What are you doing?" Meryl demanded. "You said you wouldn't tell anyone!"

"I didn't spread all these rumors…" she said, looking curiously over the crowd. Meryl noticed that many of them were looking frightened and were suddenly in a rush to leave. Perhaps, she thought, some of them were still afraid Vash the Stampede was in the building. But why had they established so much fear for a man who had saved another's life only minutes ago? Didn't the last two hours teach them that this man that was among them only had good intentions? Meryl frowned. No. Just his marred name was enough to terrify hundreds, to scatter the fearful abroad. Just his stained name was enough to create utmost panic.

The name didn't fit him at all.

"A lot of them were beginning to circulate before I even entered." Roseanne said.

"I thought we were friends," Meryl said, unable to help noticing how childish the phrase sounded, ridiculous even.

"We _were _friends, Meryl, until I got tired of always being second best to you," Roseanne said.

What did she mean? Meryl wondered. As far as she could tell, she was never the "best" at anything, even in P.E., Roseanne had always preformed better than Meryl.

"What are you talking about?" Meryl asked, sounding both angry and irritated.

Roseanne's forest green eyes looked away from Meryl, and Meryl's gaze followed. Several seconds passed before the small insurance girl realized what it was they were looking at. Repulsion taunted her stomach.

"_Travis_?" Meryl asked in disbelief. Her eyes left the short, dirty man and landed on Roseanne with disgust. "You can't be serious Roseanne? You don't want him! No one in the right mind wants him! He's unstable and appalling."

"I was only _Meryl's friend_." Roseanne announced, resembling a pouting teenager. "His eyes were only on you."

Meryl could hardly believe what she was hearing. "His eyes were never on _me._ They were on nothing more than my body! He's a complete stalker, Roseanne!"

"Only for you…"

Meryl had a strong desire to vomit. "Roseanne, you can have him!"

The forest green eyes were suddenly full of fury. "He doesn't want me, he wants you!"

At this moment Meryl could hardly believe they were the same age. Was it normal for people to never grow out of high school? Perhaps Millie was right; all this high school reunion business had reduced everyone back into adolescence.

Where was Millie anyway?

Suddenly one of the entrances to the room burst open, the man who had been choking earlier was standing in the frame. Fear flooded his face.

"He's coming!" He announced, nearly screaming. "Vash the Stampede is down the hallway, and he's walking this way!"

Cacophony took over the room. Roseanne was ripped from Meryl's view. Her former classmates were scattering for the doors on the opposite end. Meryl spotted Gabby talking loudly to her husband, apparently unaware of the announcement that had rung through the air. She caught Shane, who was still standing in the corner, looking downfallen. And finally, to her left, Millie, who was looking disappointedly down at a smashed piece of chocolate cake. Meryl moved toward her, until she suddenly bumped into a man who was a half inch shorter than her. His eyes gave a look of recognition as he peered through his shaggy blond hair.

"Hey Mel, it would seem I guessed quite accurately. You _do _have something with that outlaw, am I right?" He mumbled as if he was holding an invisible cigarette in his mouth.

"Get away from me, Travis." Meryl demanded.

The man didn't move, but a twisted smile reached every inch of his pallid face.

"My dear Mel, why must you tempt me so?" He asked. He stepped towards her, and Meryl stepped further back, her shoe slightly slipping in a turned over plate of lemon jello that had crashed to the floor earlier that night. Splattered across the ground, its remains look decapitated from all angles.

"I'm sorry about all the trouble you have gone through with him…" he continued. "How about we get some emotion out over a drink? Eh? We can forget about the past, we can even forget all about Vash the Stampede."

Just then, Meryl spotted him. The crowd of people that had been obscuring her view was scurrying. The affect resembled the parting of the red sea, only with people instead of water, and there, walking down the middle of the aisle, was Vash the Stampede. No longer was he wearing his button down shirt or khaki pants, but his revived red gunslinger coat. No longer was he wearing his expression of pretending, but one of determination and seriousness. Every ounce of him was screaming outlaw, except, perhaps, the absence of a gun. She found no point pretending to the crowd, who was terrified for their lives, he was Mark. He looked nothing like the man, and in all honesty, she didn't want to see anyone else but Vash.

"Vash," Meryl said.

Travis quickly turned around, which caused him to sway in his step. Once he caught his balance, he looked up at the outlaw, who was walking straight for them. Nearly a minute passed before he did anything. Then he darted for Meryl, who took another step back. He darted for her again, and this time succeeded in trapping his arm around her.

"Mel," he said, his hot humid breath condensing in her ear. "I can get you out of this." Even as he said these words, he had distanced himself from Vash by standing behind Meryl, clutching her.

Vash had finally reached them. He came to a halt, while the bottom of his red coat continued to sway with momentum.

Meryl tried to slip a kick to Travis, but once again, her pursuer dodged the attack.

"Get away from Meryl," the outlaw ordered.

He slipped his hand into his coat's pocket where an indistinct lump lay. Meryl had been around Vash long enough to know that his gun was larger than the lump, but Travis was oblivious to the idea.

"Right now, Travis," Vash ordered again.

Slightly quivering, he stepped away from Meryl. At once the ground underneath him seemed to melt away. His foot had slid, and he landed on the ground, on top of the smashed sticky mess of yellow jello.

Vash reached out his hand, not for Travis, but for Meryl. The small insurance girl grasped it and stepped away from the mess.

"Vash, the sheriff is coming. We need to find Wolfwood and Millie and get out of here. I think I've had enough trouble for one night," she sighed and finally looked up into Vash's eyes. The seriousness in them stunted her thoughts. She didn't look away until Millie interrupted them.

"Ms. Meryl! I've only just heard. You're marrying Mr. Vash!" She said happily.

"Millie, that's just one of the rumors," Meryl answered, quickly deflating any potential awkwardness between her and the gunman. "Anyway," she said waving it away. "Let's get out of here. Do you know where Wolfwood is?"

By now the Priest proved easy to find, the majority of people had already exited the room. Wolfwood was sitting comfortably at a table, looking like he had just enjoyed a cup of tea, the confessional propped up beside him. Vash had a feeling it was much heavier now than it had been all week.

Wolfwood played quite a smooth act when they pulled him out the door, acting subordinately, as if he played no part in any of the chaos surrounding every inch of the building. He was careful not to give Vash much attention in the presence of Meryl. However, Vash doubted Meryl would have cared. Being formerly irritated with his behavior, she probably hadn't even noticed the Priest was gone during the last several disasters.

Outside, the air had cooled; people in cars were leaving the building. Several drivers found necessary speed at the sight of Vash the Stampede. One vehicle almost hit the bumper of another. Some passengers felt it unwise to look at the gunman, while others could not keep their gaze away from him. Vash frowned.

"Spikey! Get over here!"

Vash broke his eyes away from the traffic. To his left, Wolfwood was examining a long sleek black vehicle. The windows were tinted so severely, the only image that could be seen in them was his reflection.

Wolfwood was taking the initiative to put his hands all over its surface. He seemed quite unaware of the chauffer inside, who was casting the Priest dirty looks.

"It's a nice car," Vash remarked.

"It's a _Limo_." Wolfwood hissed. The Priest studied the side mirror before he spoke again. "Don't you owe me a set of wheels, Spikey?" He asked.

"That's really expensive." Vash replied and glanced at the confessional.

"So was my bike!" Wolfwood insisted.

"If your bike couldn't survive the journey through the desert, than this definitely can't," Vash pointed out.

Wolfwood gave him an irritated look. "I would think after everything I've done _for you_-"

"Mr. Priest!" Millie's voice interrupted them, although it was quite less noisy. Both she and Meryl walked over to the sleek black car. "Ms. Gabby says she'll be over any minute, that is, if you still wanted to go out for dinner with her."

Judging by the expression on the Priest's face, Vash concluded that Wolfwood would have rather liked to spend his time doing a lot of other things than have dinner with Gabby. He appeared to be fighting a battle in his mind as he stared at Millie, who was smiling.

"Oh my gosh! Meryl!" Everyone knew the voice belonged to Gabby before they even turned around. "What an eventful night! I do need to congratulate you on this fine young man." She gave Vash the quickest of glances. "To think, you married to Vash the Stampede. No wonder you wanted to keep such information hidden! Of course, you'll be joining us for dinner?"

At this comment, several gestures were made. Wolfwood gave Vash a smug look. Millie latched on to the Priest's arm, which took him by small surprise. And Vash's eyes lingered on Meryl's face, refraining from saying anything to her, but willing her with his mind to find a way to decline.

"Oh, but we really must be getting home to the baby," Meryl insisted.

He was relieved Gabby had received her answer. The woman had begun talking loudly to her husband as they entered the sleek black vehicle.

Wolfwood's jaw dropped.

"Hurry now Millie, we want to get there before they close," Gabby insisted.

The Priest seemed to be brought back to his senses. Trying to hide his emotions, he escorted Millie into the car. As he passed Vash, he didn't bother to suppress one of his smirks. But Vash didn't care, Limo or not, he still didn't want to go all night listening to Gabby talk about laundry.

"Vash, the sheriff," Meryl reminded the outlaw. She took off at a lightening pace, Vash followed behind. They passed the corner where Vash had attempted to kiss Meryl earlier that evening, and had gained nothing more than a blob of cover-up. The area made him feel uncomfortable. Perhaps now the small insurance girl knew what he had been trying to do.

"At least I can go back to the hotel and wash off this make-up." Vash said.

Meryl sensed the optimism in his voice, but remained both quiet and irritated. Now that she was away from the reunion, she was beginning to see what a disaster it had been. What had she been thinking? That stupid Priest! If he hadn't have been so sure Vash was a good candidate, she would have never created such a calamity. With the sheriff coming, Bernardeli would be wanting a report, even if the building was still intact. She could hardly be happy about what _that_ must contain.

They had reached the end of the street, and Vash grew fearful of her heavy silence. He must have really made her mad this time…

Meryl's pace slowed down substantially as they turned another corner.

Across the street a few lonely drunk men were looking in Meryl's direction. Vash sped up to walk along side her. After glimpsing her expression, Vash decided she looked positively frustrated.

He didn't dare speak. Everything felt uncomfortable. His once triumphant spirits had melted away and he felt miserable. Never would he take the chance of letting Meryl walk home alone at this hour, even when he had a great desire to escape the thick atmosphere. He knew she was capable of sticking up for herself, but even some men, Vash had realized, were able to escape her wrath and go in for the kill.

Vash's mind began blaming his predicament on Wolfwood. In reality, he knew the Priest couldn't be _completely _accountable, but blaming him made Vash feel a little less nauseous.

They passed _Judd's_, the little store Vash and Wolfwood had so desperately raided only yesterday. Meryl let out a deep sigh.

"I can't believe it Vash."

Now that the small insurance girl had spoken, Vash wasn't sure whether he wanted to listen to heavy silence, or whatever frustration was ready to burst out of Meryl's lips. Once he had one, he suddenly wanted the other, because both felt uncomfortable.

"Everything turned out horribly," she said flatly. "Everyone was acting so childish, Travis got his dirty hands on me, that poor man was choking and no one knew what to do. Then Wolfwood just took advantage of the situation and collected an armful of money. Everyone found out you were Vash the Stampede and everyone began panicking. The whole room turned into one huge disaster. And on top of that, I didn't even do my job! Bernardeli will be furious when they find out I actually _used _my job to protect my own personal status. They will be on my case about me even placing my job in such circumstances."

They turned onto another street. No one was in sight.

"Meryl, I'm _really _sorry," Vash apologized.

What was he talking about? Meryl suddenly wondered. She was the one who had allowed this mess to happen. It was her fault everything turned out the way it did, if she hadn't listened to Wolfwood…

"I was really trying to be on my best behavior. I didn't mean for anything to happen." Vash continued.

Of course he didn't mean for anything to happen. He was Vash. _These things just happen! _That's why she was assigned to him to help prevent _these things _from happening. He was a cursed man, and most of the trouble he got into had little to do with his choices.

"I'm sorry," he said again.

"It's not your fault."

Vash was taken aback to hear the words leave her. She wasn't blaming him?

"I shouldn't have even gone through with this whole idea. It was stupid. High school reunions! Ridiculous. I don't know why I even wanted to see any of them again. They are all exactly the same as they were then. They never grow up. I'm glad I moved away from all this. I'm better off without getting mixed up with any of them. We're pathetic Vash. Look at us, all trying to outdo the other- holding on to grudges for hundreds of years. It's still just some huge competition, just like it was in high school, only back then we were competing for our survival in the real world instead of what we've done in the _real world_."

"But everyone has done lots of things," Vash said. "There's not really a point in competing when everyone has gone in such different directions, is there?" He asked carefully, afraid of saying anything that would target Meryl's rampage to him. When she remained silent, he continued. "Everyone there has either a family or an industrial job, what else do you need?"

Meryl slowed her pace. She had only just realized they had passed the street leading to _Novinian _nearly 10 minutes ago. Vash was walking her home.

"I thought those things were enough to keep people happy…"

Meryl looked up at him. The moons were shinning brightly behind him, and he looked cautious, but untroubled. What had she done dragging him into all this? The damages and panicked people were all she had raved about, she had been so caught up in the high school atmosphere… With a painful thought she recalled how selfish she had been.

_Everyone has either a family or an industrial job…I thought those things were enough to keep people happy._

The words seemed to thrash apart her organs. What had her motives been this last week? She never intended to just thrust the aspects of ordinary life on him, but she hadn't given it a thought. She had been so distracted by _her _desires, _her _wants.

"People are never happy because they are too selfish…" She said.

But for Vash… but for Vash a family or an industrial job would have been enough- whether or not people respected him. He wouldn't have cared about anything else.

"People are never satisfied. They always want more, always want to be better, and everything is competition." She said.

"Don't tell me that."

Meryl was surprised to hear the emotion in his voice. She looked into his eyes. They were a shade of emerald in the dark, but held a melancholy silhouette. He looked suddenly older than she had ever seen him. Somehow her comment had breeched an invisible line that distinguished the carefree gunman from the battered outlaw. He must feel very alone in the world, but yet, he never let anyone in.

"Maybe it's not how it sounds," Meryl spoke again, looking away from him. "Maybe some of us are never satisfied with our selves… because we keep messing up."

"Or we feel we aren't good enough."

Meryl glanced at him from the corner of her eye. She wanted to apologize for dragging him into this mess so selfishly, but the words couldn't leave her. Instead they walked closer to Meryl's parent's house in silence.

Vash was in deep thought. So many different emotions had run through him today. He wondered if he should apologize for kissing her, if he should tell her it was an honest reaction caused by his success of saving that man, that the kiss had just been an uncontrolled result of euphoria instead of an act of bravery… but he didn't want to be the one to bring the subject up when Meryl hadn't even mentioned it in passing. Perhaps she would never mention it and they could go on acting like nothing had happened, because any sort of relationship would be going no where.

Shielding his skin from the chill air, Vash placed his hand in his pocket. He felt the small box of chocolates and the spray bottle of breath freshener against his knuckles. A miniscule part of him had secretly enjoyed Wolfwood's enthusiasm, but he couldn't see any use in either of the objects. He wouldn't need them.

Following Meryl, he turned into the yard of a small cozy home. The roof had just been freshly shingled. In the upper left window, the lights were on. The few stairs that led to the porch creaked under their weight, breaking the silence. Unlike everywhere else Vash had been in this city, this street was quiet. No lights were flashing, no whiffs of alcohol drifted passed him, and no one was walking by.

He wanted it to be a short goodbye. The less time he spent in the moonlight alone with Meryl, the better.

"I'm sorry about everything," he told her, avoiding her lavender eyes. He hoped Bernardeli wouldn't be too angry with her, but the more mature side of him thought that it would be better if they did, safer anyway. "Goodnight."

He stepped down onto the second stair when she spoke.

"Wait, Vash."

Holding his breath, he froze. His heart was picking up pace, he knew they had reached the topic he wanted avoided and yet clarified. He waited for her to speak again, still gazing at the street before him. Her shoes hit the wood subtly as she walked over to him. He could see her shadow shaped in the light of the upstairs window.

She touched his shoulder and he finally looked into her dark eyes. The stars were reflected in them, making each one look like burnished blankets of space. Halcyon, they were staring into him. He felt his lungs collapse, even though they were still continuing their constant motion. Suddenly he felt exposed before her, vulnerable.

Her arm slid across his chest until her palm rested on his cheek. Gently she pulled him forward while carefully leaning into him.

Vash closed his eyes and felt their lips meet. Everything that had been spinning in his head, relapsed. He felt the tips of her fingers in his hair, and could smell her sweet scent. She was kissing him.

They pulled apart, and Vash felt his cheeks flush at their eye contact. Meryl looked away from him, staring at the light flooding out of the upstairs window. Her arm slid softly away from his body. And Vash felt suddenly alone and chill without it against him.

"My parents still wait up for me," she said with a touch of amusement. "Even when I have lived away for so long."

"They must really care about you." His tone sounded sad and empty to Meryl. Immediately, she regretted her comment, perhaps it had brought the gunman back down to earth before he wanted- before he could truly savor the façade of confidence she had displayed. She was satisfied with the way the kiss had turned out; she had worried about it, but wanted to show Vash a form of confidence and stability… he deserved it after displaying his feelings to her when she had never had the nerves to go there.

"I suppose your job probably worries them," Vash spoke again with a hurtful smile.

"They weren't too happy at first, but I think they've mellowed out. They knew I would get involved with something dangerous."

When she spotted his face, she quickly grabbed his hand. Pushing away her insecurities, she let her fingers weave through his.

He felt a great sense of remorse flee from him, and a strong desire to pull her nearer to him. He looked down and their little locked hands.

Meryl looked away from him, feeling satisfied with his change of expression.

"Vash… would you like to meet my family?" She asked. "You should have met them earlier so you could have complained about your in-laws."

"It's okay, you never met your in-laws, and I think it's better kept that way."

"You have family, Vash?" She asked and looked at him. Embarrassment overtook her for her inconsiderate comment. She had never heard Vash talk about his family. They probably didn't talk to him now that he was an outlaw…

"Yeah, a brother," he answered, diverting his eyes. "I haven't seen him in a very long time."

"How long?" Meryl asked before she could stop herself.

"Since before July… actually I don't remember much of him but our childhood."

Meryl saw another shadow of sadness in his eyes. She pulled him closer.

"Well, I think mine are safe to meet," she said. "They've heard so much about you."

"Are you sure?" Vash asked. He sounded childish. Everything suddenly felt new and foreign to him.

"Yeah, they've actually been asking me about you… wondering where you were when I was supposed to have you under 24 hour surveillance." Meryl slipped off the ring on her left hand. "Here," she handed it to Vash. "They didn't know I went with you to the reunion, and I know they'll hear all about it tomorrow, but I don't think we should give them any reason to believe the rumors if we can help it."

She opened the door.

Vash stared down at the ring. Unfortunately, he didn't think he would sell it in this city- everyone was too frugal with their money, and too obsessed with making it. Perhaps he would hold onto it until they reached another city, or maybe it would sit somewhere and gather dust until he had decided what to do with it.

He glanced at Meryl again.

Perhaps he would just hold on to it for a few years.

Pocketing the ring, he entered the cozy house.

* * *

Author's Note: It's completed. You have been a great help reading it, and I would sincerely implore you to take time to let me know your overall impression. Please point out any flaws I made or any disappointments you may have experienced, even if it's not a very big deal. Don't worry about damaging my self esteem, I want honest opinions whether pleasant or irritated. I want to improve my writing.

Most of all, thank you for reading!

Oh yes… I generally try to avoid explaining my writing too much, but as I wrote this last scene, I did think about how odd it might come across for an ending, especially after a kiss. But I think more than anything, Vash would want to be a part of a real family, not necessarily Meryl's, but I wanted to portray his deeper yearning of having a place to belong. Well, with that said, I hope you enjoyed it. Thank you.


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